


Ice Man No More

by Watsons_Girl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Marriage, Mild Blood, Mild Smut, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watsons_Girl/pseuds/Watsons_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if John Watson had another sister? After moving into 221C Baker Street, John's younger sister, Kate, finds herself in the centre of Sherlock and John's world of danger, adventure and surprisingly love. Mycroft/OC. Future Sherlolly. John/Mary. Slight AU. Follows the series time line with a few changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> This story is partly inspired by the star gazing scene from the film 'A Beautiful Mind', it's one of my all-time favourite films, and if you haven't seen it I strongly recommend it. Some of the scenes in this story will be based around some of the scenes in the film.
> 
> I'm still sticking to the series story line but adding in some scenes here and there. I would also like to apologize in advance if any of the characters seem OOC.
> 
> I'm not sure how fast paced this story will be, the romance should be reasonable paced but I apologize if things seemed rushed, after all Sherlock is a pretty fast paced show.
> 
> Transcript courtesy of Ariane DeVere

John Watson rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour. Trying to reason with the worlds only consulting detective was proving difficult.

"I said no John." Sherlock told him, again, glaring at him.

"For god's sake Sherlock, you're being unreasonable!" John retorted collapsing back into his arm chair, clearly exasperated.

"There is no need to be reasonable. I've already said no."

"Well Mrs. Hudson has already said yes." John shot back.

"And I'm saying no." Sherlock fought, biting on every word.

"Why?"

"I just don't see why she has to stay here"

"Because she just got a job at Scotland Yard and she has nowhere to go, Sherlock that's why. Is that a problem?"

"Yes." Sherlock sat up from his spot where he was perched over his microscope and peered at the Doctor. "Yes it is John, because she is a woman, and women are distractions. It's a known fact. She'll be emotional, annoying and constantly under our feet."

John stared at his flatmate in mixture of disbelief and disgust, he could not believe the words that had come out of his mouth just then. "One. That was impressively sexist, even for you." Sherlock scoffed at this. "Two. She won't be living here with us. Mrs. Hudson has given her the downstairs flat."

"So she will be beneath our feet." Sherlock muttered to himself, he did not intend for the doctor to hear.

"Enough Sherlock!" John had had enough and now he was putting his foot down. "She's my little sister, so if I say she stays. She stays."

There was silence for a few moments, and John could honestly say he had never been so scared in his whole life, and he had been the Afghanistan. And outburst from Sherlock was the last thing he wanted right now.

"Fine." He scolded. "On your own head be it."  
________________________________________

The train pulled up to platform six of London's King's Cross, its wheels squealing to a halt. Inside a young woman of 26 collected her bags from the holder by the main exits and stood on the platform.

Kate Watson had just moved to London from Edinburgh after being promoted to Detective Superintendent and reassigned to Scotland Yard. This was perfect for her, as her brother Doctor John Watson lived right in the centre of London and not too far from Scotland Yard.

Of course she would not be living there permanently, just until she found herself a place and got herself back on her feet. Besides, John already had one flat mate, a man called Sherlock Holmes. Kate knew all about him, she'd seen him in the news, her brother too, solving crimes and fighting criminals.

At 22, Kate had graduated from The University of Edinburgh with a masters in Criminology and Forensic Science, and by the age of 26 had risen through the ranks and earned a promotion to Detective Superintendent.

She had missed London. The hustle and bustle of its lively streets and its people, they were still as impatient and crowding as she remembered. Kate got into a cab and gave the driver her destination, "221 Baker Street", only to be stuck in the lunch time traffic mere minutes later. It was times like this that Kate was thankful that she had decided to sell her car before coming back. She had no need for it now that she was back in London. You could walk ten miles in the time you've moved five feet in a car.

"Baker Street?" The cabbie asked in the strong accent that Kate had always loved. "That's where that detective bloke lives innit? What's 'is name?" He thought for a moment, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. "Holmes. That's it. And the short fellow, erm, Doctor something. You a friend of theirs?" He asked looking in his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. You could say that." Kate smiled. Her big brother was well known through out the city seemed, famous even. It was funny how people still pointed out that he was a little shorter than the average man, mainly because she used to tease him something rotten when they were younger. Not that she was taller, in fact she was the same height.

Sometime later, almost forty-five minutes, the cab pulled up to Baker Street and Kate gave the driver the fare, plus an extra five pounds for having to drive through that nightmare of traffic. Ascending the few steps up to the black door, she used the brass knocker.  
Within seconds of opening the door, Kate was ushered into the thin hallway by the landlady, Mrs Hudson, who was gushing about how lovey it will be to have another woman around the place. Mrs Hudson was an older woman, not too old, yet old enough to be her grandmother, with short brown hair that was ever so beginning to turn grey.

"John! You have a visitor!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.

Waltzing up the stairs, Mrs Hudson led Kate up the stairs to the door labelled _221B_. Kate suddenly felt incredibly excited, it was the first time in, god, eight years that she would be seeing John again. She could not believe that it have been that long, for not long before she went to university, John was deployed to Afghanistan, which worried her a lot. They wrote almost every week, but it didn't stop the constant feeling that the next time she saw him it would be in morbid circumstances. She shook the thought from her head, and remained thankful that he was home safely, even though he did get shot. But he was alive, ad that was what mattered.

"Hoo hoo" This made Kate laugh a little as Mrs Hudson knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a reply. "There's a lovely young woman here to see you." Mrs Hudson said with a smile, she wanted to see his reaction when he saw his sister.

Stepping into the flat, Kate scanned the room quickly. It was a decent size for a flat, quite dark too. The walls were painted a variety of dark browns, reds and purples and over on the far wall was an old fireplace made of wood and stone and above it on the mantel piece was a skull, a dagger pinning some letters to the wood, a standing clock and some loose change. Kate had learned to be extremely perceptive to her surrounds throughout her police training. Turning her attention back to the arm chairs, she saw two men sitting in either of them. One was John, who was sitting reading the paper in the red chair with his metal crutch resting against it, and opposite him was a man who was aimlessly plucking at the strings of his violin. That must be Sherlock. He looked exactly like John had described him. Abnormally high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes with extremely pale skin and a sweeping cupid's bow.

John turned at Mrs Hudson's announcement. Kate smiled at him, he looked exactly the same as he did when he left, only now his normally sandy hair had a few stray strands of grey in, possibly from age or stress. His blue eyes widened as he clapped eyes on her and his straight mouth pulled into a massive grin. "Kate!" He almost shouted and leapt from his chair to hug her, forgetting his crutch. Sweeping her up in a huge embrace, Kate laughed at how although he was almost nine years older than her, she appeared to be the elder.

"Hey big bro." She said, hugging him back twice as hard.

He pulled away and held her at arm's length, a mix of surprise and happiness on his face. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you were going to be here for another couple of weeks."

"I got an early reassignment. Thought I would surprise you." Mrs Hudson was in the background, busying herself, making an extra cup of tea for Kate. Sherlock however, had still not moved or acknowledged her presence, or even blinked since she had entered the room.

"Job well done." He laughed.

"Sherlock, do sit up and put down that blasted violin!" Mrs Hudson scolded him as she set down the tea set on the coffee table by the sofa. "You have a guest." Sitting down on the sofa, John limped to collect his crutch and joined her and made her a fresh tea. Sherlock had done as his landlady had instructed and had abruptly stopped plucking the string and placed the violin down on the side table next to him. He was now fixed on staring at Kate, which was quite unnerving.

"Young. Well ish. Probably about twenty two, twenty three. Graduated from university not too long ago, and looking at the slight tan of your skin more than likely somewhere warm or with a coast line, like Bristol or Kent. Your appearance alone can tell me your occupation. Blond hair, naturally curled, no colour added within the past six months, more or less, tweezed brows and the lesser than the norm make up that most woman wear, you've gone for eyeliner and lipstick whereas most woman wear about ten times that. So you care about your appearance, but not so much that it becomes an obsession, but still enough that you still care to look presentable. Possibly a teacher. You're obviously John's younger sister, all you have to do is look at the nose and mouth for any obvious signs of relation. More the fact that he has not stopped bringing you up in every conversation he feel necessary to have. And not to mention the height and weight, virtually the same as John, smaller than most women your age and a little heavier too."

"Sherlock!" John hissed, glaring at his flatmate. But yet he pressed on.

"By my pointing that fact out, I can sense some hostility in both you and John, judging by the way you've suddenly straightened up I'd say some tragic childhood memories are involved. Bullying more than likely, oh people can be cruel can't they?"

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that had crept into the room. John was torn between glaring at his flatmate in disbelief or passing his baby sister apologetic glances on his behalf. Sherlock was still and emotionless. Had he even realized that he had just summed up her whole childhood in a single word? Bullying. All through her childhood, Kate was every bully's dream, she was not fat, but because she had freckles and braces and a liked to do thing like read, god forbid she liked to read, and the fact that she was not unhealthily skinny, people just seemed to target her.

"Yeah, they can." Kate said taking a sip of her tea before setting it down and standing from the sofa. "Thanks for the tea Mrs Hudson, but I think I'd like to unpack now." She said rather quietly and the landlady left the room to go and prepare Kate's flat for her. "Thanks for letting me stay John." She looked across the room as she made her way to the door. "And by the way Sherlock, I'm twenty-six, a graduate from the University of Edinburgh and I am not a teacher but a police officer." She approached the consulting detective and stood in front of him, he too rose to meet her, a sign of respect maybe?

_Wow_. Kate thought, she'd never realized exactly how tall he was. Now she knew how her brother felt. As he towered over her, she stuck out her hand. "Detective Superintendent Kate Watson." John held his breath. His sister was never one for being tactful, in a way she was like Sherlock, once she got started there was no stopping her. Sherlock stared at her hand for a few seconds before finally taking her hand and slowly shaking it.

"Sherlock Holmes - Consulting Detective." And then she was gone, down the stairs to her new home, John turned to Sherlock and looked quite furious. And with good right to.

"I don't know what the hell just happened but one thing Sherlock, that's all I bloody asked. All you had to do was to be nice or at least pretend to be civil. Can you not even manage that?!" And off he went, after his sister to make sure she was okay, as after all most people felt a little bit victimized after on of Sherlock's deductions. John found Kate in the living room on 221C, unpacking her suitcase and sorting them into separate piles of clothing. He knocked on the door frame quietly and took one look at the expression on her face before moving to give her another hug. She did not look upset or even pissed off, in fact he couldn't exactly tell what she must have been feeling. Kate sighed heavily as she rubbed his back, like he used to do to her when she was upset as a child, she felt exhausted from her long morning travelling and she was starving. "You okay?" John asked with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Surprisingly yes." John held her at arm's length again and cocked a brow.

"Really? Because most people who go through that" He pointed in the direction of upstairs. "Often feel like either killing him or running and hiding." Kate laughed at this, she'd always loved how dramatic John could be.

"Honestly, I'm fine. Yes it did annoy me how blunt he was but I still can't get over how he knew all that." John shook his head.

"I have no idea. Within seconds of meeting him, he could tell that I'd been to Afghanistan by my haircut and tan." They both laughed and Kate looked around at her new flat. It was nice. Lovely and homely. The walls were painted a pale yellow and green, with contrasting dark furniture. The living room was basically furnished, with a cream and blue fabric sofa and a matching arm chair with a dark side table and coffee table. The kitchen was quite small, but still large for the size of the flat, it was fully fitted with a fridge, cooker and counters; in the centre of the room was a round table with four chairs around it. As she looked into her kitchen, she realized that she had no food what so ever. "I would offer you a cup of tea or a biscuit but I have nothing in." John grabbed her coat and handed it to her, "Come on. Let's go for a coffee and a catch up, then I'll take you shopping afterwards." He help Kate with her coat before walking into the hallway to collect his from the hook by the front door.

"Give me a second John, I left my purse upstairs." Kate said as she was already halfway up the stairs. She entered the living room again and saw that it was empty, much to her surprise. Spying her purse on the coffee table next to her discarded tea, she grabbed it and made to leave but almost collided with a dark figure behind her. "Oh sorry Sherlock!" Kate composed herself, smoothing a loose curl back behind her ear. "I didn't see you there."

"I realise now that my earlier actions were inappropriate and frankly uncalled for." He told her in a deep voice that surprised Kate, he did not look like his voice should be that deep. "I apologize for that, and I suppose I should say that I am rather glad that you will be staying here." Now that was a turn of events.

Kate cocked her brow, "You are?"

"Of course." He stated in a matter of fact way.

"Are you just saying this because John shouted at you?"

"Partly." He stated before walking away and picking up his violin to play. Kate listened for a while, he was good, amazing in fact. She walled pulled back by John shouting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Shouting a goodbye to Sherlock, who was too busy composing and drifting around the room to acknowledge her closing the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.

John took Kate to the little café she had noticed, right next to Baker Street. Speedy's was a quite café, and the staff was friendly, especially saying as Mrs Hudson seemed to be the only waiting staff working that day. She was still gushing about having another female in the flat, and how it should do the boys some good.

"Listen." John said when they were sitting down at a small table for two by the window, with their cups of freshly grounded coffee. "Sherlock is" He thought for a minute. "Sherlock is Sherlock, that's all I can say."

"It's fine. You don't have to explain." Kate shook her head, it was true, and by what John had told her in their brief phone calls and email, and by what she had witnessed in the flat moments ago, there was indeed no other way of describing Sherlock other than 'Sherlock'. "Besides, he already apologized."

"He did? Really?" John looked almost surprised. "Wow, he's never done that before."

"What, he's never apologized before?"

"Not once in the past few month I've known him." Seriously? How can you go months without ever having to say you're sorry? "And he can be a right dick sometimes."

"He only did because you shouted at him." She told him, taking a drink, the mug warming her hands.

"Yes. Well, you're my baby sister. I'm not going to let anyone talk to you like that." Typical John. Always so protective over her. Of course he looked out for their older sister Harriet too, but they hadn't seen or even spoken to her in a long time. There was quite an age gap between Kate and her siblings, there was only four years in between John and Harriet but with Kate there was nearly nine between her and John and nearly fourteen in difference between her and Harriet.

"I think I handle it rather well, but thank you all the same." They sat quietly for a little while, the gentle buzz of conversation continuing around them. "Anyway, enough about me. What about you, how have you been?"

"Pretty good, considering." He hit his leg with his crutch. Kate remembered how ecstatic she was when she heard that John was coming home, but then how terrified and heart wrenchingly worried she was when she found out that he had been shot and was in need of surgery. He told her how his leg is a psychosomatic injury from his shoulder wound.

"So is it just the two of you living there?"

"Yes." John replied, eyeing her suspiciously. What was she getting at?

"Oh. I thought that maybe there was someone else. Girlfriend maybe?" She wagged a brow at her brother. When they were younger, before John joined the army, they used to laugh about how notorious John seemed to be with woman. Kate did not know what it was, but woman seemed to practically throw themselves at him. Perhaps it was the uniform.

"Oh. No. Well there was one woman I started seeing a few weeks ago, but she never made it past the front door." Kate gave him a confused glance over her cup. "Sherlock." He stated.

"Aw don't worry." She cooed. "You'll find someone."

John scoffed and sat back in his chair. "Come off it Kate. I'm an ex-soldier recovering from PTSD and a gammy leg. It doesn't exactly scream appeal."

"Well I look at dead bodies for a living but you don't see me complaining about being single."

"Shame. I remember how granddad would always call you his little heart-breaker. Said you would break the hearts and minds of hundreds of men."

Heart-breaker, that was their granddad's pet name for her. He always told her that she was going to grow and blossom into a beautiful woman with her blonde hair and shining hazel eyes. "Yeah? Well lately I've been getting the feeling that it's the other way around."

After John had taken her shopping, they returned to Baker Street where John was summoned up to his flat by Sherlock, who was complaining about his sock index being out of order or something along those lines, so Kate was left to put all her shopping away. She had stocked up on the necessitates, like fruit and vegetables, a couple of microwave meals for the late nights she knew were to come with working at Scotland Yard.

Learning about what it was like to live with Sherlock was certainly entertaining. John had told her about the time Mrs Hudson came running down the stairs because she had opened to fridge, expecting to find something too cook, but instead was unexpectedly greeted by a severed head staring at her with glassy eyes. Or the time when Sherlock made tea, which according to John he never did, and instead of a teabag there was a human tongue in its place.

She honestly didn't think that Sherlock was as terrible as people seemed to enjoy making him out to be. Sure she had found him difficult when she first met him, he was definitely a show off, he quite liked the attention. But she liked him. It would certainly make living here a interesting time, you'd never know what was around the corner.

A sudden and sharp knock on the front door made Kate jump and drop the box of strawberries she was placing in the fridge, sending them to the floor. Luckily, the box did not open so she quickly picked them up, realising that no one had yet to open the door, she put them on the shelf and opened the door to her flat. Another knock on the door came quicker than the last one, and still there was no sounds of anyone going to get it. "I've got it!" She shouted up the stairs. "Just because I live closest doesn't mean that I'm going to get it every time." She stated, more to herself than publicly.

Swinging open the door she saw a man, with brown and silver hair, quite tanned skin and kind eye, dressed in a suit with a long mac coat over it all. He was quite attractive, but in an older way. He looked confused that she was the one to answer the door. "Sorry." He said, almost leaning in the doorway. "Sherlock Holmes still lives here doesn't he?"

"Yeah. He's upstairs." She stood aside and allowed him to pass, shutting the door behind them. "I'll let him know you're here..." Kate paused waiting for him to tell her his name.

"Oh uh, Greg." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. "Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."

"Detective Inspector? You don't happen to work at Scotland Yard do you?"

"That I do." He flashed her a toothy smile. "Why do you ask?"

"I've recently been transferred there for Edinburgh and it would be nice to at least know one person there." She told him only to be met with a blank expression. "Detective Superintendent Kate Watson" she replied with a smile, shaking his hand again.

"Ah so  _you're_  the new DS, I've heard so much about. Well I hope you live up to your reputation Miss Watson." he smiled and they stood awkwardly close to one another in the tight hallway. "Hold on. Watson?" He asked. "No relation to John Watson I take it?"

"Younger sister." she said.

"Ah yes. I do recall him talking about you quite a bit over the past few weeks." Greg stated.

"That seems to be all he's been doing lately." Kate dead panned. "Well John and Sherlock are upstairs, but Sherlock was in a right state about his socks earlier so I'd best go and check the coast is clear."

Kate smiled at Greg, he was a nice man, not to mention good looking.  _Stop it_   _Kate!_  She scolded herself.  _He's your boss dammit!_ Making a quick dash for the stairs, she rather gingerly knocked on the door to 221B with Greg right behind her. Literally right behind her.

There was some sounds of people shuffling around behind the door and then it opened rather suddenly to a rather flustered John, holding two pairs of mis-matching socks in his hand. "Kate. And Greg?" He looked from Kate to Greg and then to the socks before quickly tossing them to aside.

"Where?" Sherlock's voice came from across. Kate hopped on the spot, she hadn't even seen him standing by the window. He was by the window, staring out onto the streets below.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." Greg replied walking over to stand next to Sherlock by the window.

"What's new about this one? Obviously you wouldn't have come to me if there wasn't something different."

"You know how they never leave notes." Sherlock nodded. "Well this one did."

Kate heard Mrs Hudson shuffling around in the kitchen where she was busy cleaning up the mess that Sherlock had left that morning. Sherlock and Greg were still conversing indistinctly in the background, and Kate could only make out selected words. She was washing up the stacks of plates, stained with greasy take away food, when Greg stuck his head around the doorway to the kitchen.

"You had better come too, Superintendent." And with that he was out the door and down the stairs, slamming the front door behind him. Confused as to what was actually going on Kate walked back into the living room to find John sitting quite casually in his armchair and Sherlock spinning around the room looking rather happy with himself.

"Four serial suicides and now a note! It's Christmas!" Sherlock gleefully declared as he marched to the door for his long coat and scarf. Suicides? Yes, Kate had read about them, three people, four now, had been went to a place that they had no connection with whatsoever and killed themselves. Dreadful business it was. "Come on then!" Sherlock ushered John and Kate to the door practically throwing John's coat on his shoulder. 

"You're just one big ball of excitement aren't you?" Kate said as he bustled them down the stairs. 

John made sure to close the door to the flat behind him, and he remembered his cane this time. "You’ve seen nothing yet.”

"Suicides? Four of them? There's no use sitting around when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock declared and spun round to march out of the front door. 

Kate frowned. "Try to remember that people have died." It certainly wouldn't hurt to show a little respect. Kate quickly looked down at what she was wearing and deciding that a dress, tights and boots was not suitable for a crime scene, nor the weather, but it was clear that she did not have time to change, so she just went with it and pulled her blue blazer’s collar up around her ears as she left the flat, the cold air biting at her skin. 

Once outside, Sherlock had already flagged a taxi and he and John were already climbing in. Kate hopped in next to Sherlock and slammed to door behind her as John gave the driver the address. On the ride there, Sherlock and John kept her up to speed with the case.

"Victim number one.” Sherlock declared, clapping his hands together once. “Sir Jeffery Patterson, a local business man, his body found on October 12th in an office on the other side of town to his. Victim number two, Jimmy West, teenager barely eighteen, found November 26th floating in a swimming pool. And victim number three, January 27th, Beth Davenport, a Junior Minister of Public Transport left a party where she was heavily intoxicated and was found in a portable loo on a building site eighteen hours later."

Kate felt like she should have been taking all this down, but she had a good memory so found it easy to remember everything. Within ten minutes the driver pulled into the end of the street for it was as far as he could go. The street had been sectioned off by police tape and there were officers scattered around keeping the concerned residents away from the scene.

Approaching the tape, they were met by a woman with dark skin and frizzy dark hair. She saw them coming and straightened her shoulders and walked forward to meet them at the tape. “Hello freak. John.” She ‘greeted’ them, staring at Sherlock.

“Donovan.” They both replied, Sherlock gave a curt nod. “We’re here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.”

“Why?”

“I believe we were invited.”

“ _Why?_ ” She sneered.

Sighing, Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I think that maybe he wants us to take a look.” His voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.

“Well you know what I think don’t you?” Donovan retorted, rearing up and folding her arms across her chest. Kate hadn’t even spoken to this woman yet and she already disliked her, she wouldn’t go as far as to say she hated her, but there was some severe disliking.

“Always Sally.” Sherlock mocked a smile and lifted the police tape for John and Kate to duck under. She allowed John to go through no problem, but stopped Kate. “Who’s this?” She extended her arm across Kate’s chest, preventing her from getting past.

“Kate Watson. Sally Donovan.” Sherlock flicked his hand between them. “Old friend." 

Kate watched as Sally looked at her and John, obviously trying to make a connection between the two Watsons. “He’s my brother.” Kate interjected. “Just thought I’d save you the trouble of asking.”

Sally turned to John. “I never knew you had a sister.”

“Yes, and she’s with us.” John said and grabbed the tape to lift it for Kate to duck under, but Sally pushed it back down.

“I let him” She pointed a skinny finger at Sherlock “bring you in as a colleague. But I have to draw the line somewhere, he can’t have two colleagues!” Kate was beginning to get annoyed with this woman, and she could tell that John and Sherlock were to, so she took her police badge from her pocket, just as her phone rang.

Flashing her badge to Donovan, she answered her phone as if she was on duty. “DS Kate Watson.” On the other end was a serious sounding woman who introduced herself and Chief Superintendent Susan Kelly. She then went on to apologised for dragging Kate in early but there was a suspected security hacking that had taken place at an apartment a few streets from where she was now. Again she apologised, saying that she would appreciate the extra help.

Kate told her that she would be there in fifteen minutes tops and hanging up she shoved her badge and phone back into her blazer. “Looks like you two are on your own. I’ve got another crime scene a couple of streets down.”

“Another suicide?” Sherlock asked, suddenly perking up. 

“No, a security hacking.” She said and saw his shoulders drop, he was clearly upset that someone had not died in the past few minutes. “You two get a body and I get a nerd kid with his laptop.”

“I could give you a ride there, if you want.” Kate heard Sally say, rather unexpectedly. Perhaps she had come to realise that Kate was in fact her superior and it scared her a little.

“Thanks. It’s not too far.” Kate gave Sally the address and climbed into her marked car as Sherlock and John went to have a look at their suicide. It only took five minutes to get to the scene, but it was a long and silent trip, and Kate was thankful to get there. 

Arriving at the scene she was greeted by a very young looking man, barely in his twenties, he introduced himself as Miller, no first name. He led her towards the building where they had found the suspect in the basement. Passing a police car, Kate saw a man with dark hair and dull eyes, must be the suspect, leaning against the inside window, his breath steaming up the glass. His eyes were glassed over and lost, yet he was responsive, sitting up as she passed, his eyes following her.

As she entered the apartment and got her first initial sweep of the area, it was a mess, there was pieces of paper scattered all over the floor, and many more attached to the walls with red string leading to different locations all over the country, there were newspapers clipping of article concerning certain MP’s and the Prime Ministers. But the good thing was that none of the notes lying around had any threat of an attack as far as she could see. In the centre of the room was a single brown desk, with a black office chair lying on its side next to it, and on the desk was a laptop with a wireless mouse sitting next to it. The windows had been boarded up and then taped over, whoever was in here made certain that no one knew he was there.

The laptop was a standard one, silver and the type you would use for browsing more than anything. That was a dead end straight away, for the screen was cracked and the keyboard was smoking slightly. The hacker must have known that the police were on to him and destroyed the hard drive. Looking closer Kate noticed that it was wet, as if water has been thrown on it for good measures. And sure enough, on the floor was a broken glass, six pieces in total and they were still in good enough condition to be put back together. Standing straight, she waved a forensics officer over. “Can I get this processed and dusted for prints?” He nodded and collected the pieces, putting them into a zip lock evidence bag.

Miller approached her, handing her another evidence bag containing a dark green leather wallet. It was in pretty good condition, reasonable priced, only the leather across the spine had begun to split, due to over use. “One wallet belonging to a Mr Adam Wickham.” He told her, pointing to the drivers license lying lose in the bag. The picture was faded and scratched, not suitable for use, and she couldn’t make out the picture.

“Is that our man outside?”

“Yes ma’am, caught him hiding under the desk, rocking back and forth and screaming a whole load of nothing.”

“What was he saying?” She asked him, handing the bag over to a passing forensic officer.

“He said ‘They’ll kill me now. They’ll kill them too.’”

Kate now knew two things. One, either this man is delusional or the victim of an extremely dangerous blackmail, and whoever was behind it was using someone else as bait. Two, she needed to find out who ‘they’ were, and find out why they were hacking into London’s security, and for what purpose.

It was then that Chief Superintendent Kelly approached her. Kelly was in charge of this crime scene, but she had listed Kate as the operator of the case. “Evening, Detective Superintendent, I’m the Chief Superintendent at the Yard.” She shook Kate’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind starting a few weeks early, but when Lestrade told me you were in the area, I had to get you on board. I’ve heard positive things about you Watson.”

Kate smiled and politely shook her hand. Kelly was a tall woman, maybe around five foot nine, with black hair pulled back into a neat tail. For such a high ranking official, she must have only been in her thirties. “It’s no trouble, it keeps me busy.”

“Right.” They dropped hands as Kelly spoke. “I’ve done a door to door sweep of the area and the neighbours say that this place has been empty for the past few months and then suddenly, around four days ago, our suspect is seen coming in and out of the residence.”

“So he just showed up one day out of the blue?” Kate picked up as old magazine, with the coupon for a sports gym membership cut out of it.

“A squatter maybe? Homeless?” Miller spoke up.

“Not likely. This magazine was issued three days ago, the magazine itself is nearly five pounds, plus there is a coupon for a twenty pound monthly gym membership. So he has to be earning some money.” She turned to Miller who was still holding Mr Wickham’s wallet. “Can I see that for a second?” He handed her the leather wallet and checked the main compartment, finding nothing she opened up the smaller pocket inside and pulled out the magazine coupon along with a loose key. “Not homeless after all.” She said as she dropped the key and the coupon into separate evidence bags. 

“I’ll run his name through the database back at the Yard and see what we can dig up.” Kelly took the bag with the key in and observed it closely. “It’s worn, so it’s been used a lot. 

“See if you can manage to pull up an address for Mr Wickham. This may be his house key, which would help us a lot.”

“We also traced his phone and its memory card and found that in the past four days he has made 13 calls to an unidentified number and has received five from the same number.”

“It’s only that number he contacts?” She nodded. Kate frowned, this was strange but it was a lead. “Can we get a trace on it?”

“Tried that, got nothing, not even an estimated location. It’s a dead end.”

“Maybe not.” Kate stood from where she was crouching by the desk, looking to see if there had been anything stuck to the underside of it, but found nothing. “We need to interrogate Mr Wickham as soon as possible.”

“It may be some time, he is under the influence of both alcohol and substances that are unknown.” Kelly told her.

“Okay. Well let him sleep it off in the holding cells.” She checked her phone and found that she had two new texts, one received right after the previous. 

_Baker Street. Come if convenient. – SH_

She scrolled to the next.

_If inconvenient, come anyway. – SH_

“Look, I’ve got to run.” She pushed her phone back into her blazer pocket. “Get someone to contact me as soon as he is awake and eligible for interrogation.” Kate said over her shoulder as she made a quick exit from the room. “We need to find out who he is and who that number belongs to.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Transcript courtesy of Ariane DeVere

After failing to flag a taxi, it was expected of a Friday night in central London, Kate was forced to walk the forty five minute journey back to Baker Street. She finally arrived there at around eight thirty. It had been none stop for her all day, in the past twenty hours or so she had moved to the other side of the country and had been to two crime scenes, it was safe to say that she as exhausted and she had every intention of having a hot shower, maybe order some food and having an early night.

She came to realise that that was not allowed as she hadn't even made it to the steps outside before Sherlock and John came out of the front door pulling their coats on their backs. "Where are you two off to?" She asked only have her shoulders grabbed by Sherlock who spun her around, making her walk in the direction he and John were headed in.

"Northumberland Street."

"Okay." Kate strained, pushing his hands from her shoulders and dropping back to walk behind him with her brother. "Why?"

John shrugged his shoulders, he too clearly did not understand what was going on. "Sherlock thinks that the killer will be there."

"Again, why?"

"Because I had John text him telling to meet us there."

Kate couldn't believe it, he had gotten John to text a murderer and plan a little get together. "You had him text a murderer!" She said a little too loud, catching the attention of a group of girls walking past who turned and gave her a rather disgusting look. "And now we're going to meet him?"

"Not us. Jennifer Wilson." replied Sherlock.

"Who's Jennifer Wilson?" She asked John as it would be easier getting a half decent answer out of him. John told her about the body at Lauriston Gardens. Jennifer Wilson, a media reporter in her late thirties who had travelled to London from Cardiff that day and was found by a couple of kids hanging around the building. She was a serial adulterer with a string of lovers. Which meant that there would be a string of suspects too.

They continued walking down the busy high street, Sherlock was still shooting of quick fire questions, more to himself than to anyone else. "This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go." Falling in step behind, Kate and John were finding it difficult to keep up, especially John as he could not move as quick as he would like to with his crutch and it didn't exactly help that Sherlock was stalking ahead weaving his way around people with his hands pressed to the side of his head as he tried to keep a train on his thoughts.

"Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

John looked at Kate, a little lost at to what he was going on about. "I don't know. Who?"

Sherlock paused momentarily, having a quick glance around the streets before shrugging and continuing on. "Haven't the faintest. Hungry?" Removing his fingertips from his temple, he led John and Kate towards a small restaurant in the middle of a busy stretch of pubs and takeout. Once inside, the waiter standing in the doorway gestured them towards a reserved table by the front window, the owner must know Sherlock for him to have a reserved table.

It was a lovely little place, quite small but with a lot of seating space. She, John and Sherlock had been sat in the far corner of the restaurant, well away from the other customers, which was probably best for Sherlock, he was still completely focused on the case, delving deep into the depths of his mind palace, at least she thinks that what John called it.

Not long after they were seated a man with a low grey ponytail came over and shook Sherlock and John's hand and gave Kate's a kiss. Kate learned that Sherlock had gotten this man, Angelo the owner, off of a murder charge, granted he had proven him guilty of another crime but he saved him from a life time of false imprisonment. They ordered their food, which was on the house as we were with Sherlock.

"So, how was your crime? Security hacking wasn't it?" John asked, taking a mouthful of his pasta dish.

"Yeah, we were lucky he was apprehended before he even had a chance to activate the system one hundred percent. If he did then he would have had access to every single phone, computer, and television and security camera around the city."

Their conversation was rather rudely interrupted by Sherlock who was holding his hand up as a signal for them to be quiet. "Look, across the street." He was sitting full swivel in his chair staring out of the bay window. Kate turned also and followed his glance, at the end of the street was a black London cab. Its engines were still running and she could see that there was both a driver and a passenger in the car, but no movement. "No one getting in. No on getting out."

"Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?" Sherlock was talking to himself again, it was a rather annoying habit and yet fascinating at the same time to see exactly how his mind processed his thoughts.

John had now also turned around. "That's him?"

"Don't stare." Sherlock snapped.

"You're staring." retorted John.

"All three of us can't stare." Sherlock pushed his chair back and pulled his coat from the back of it simultaneously. He was already out of the door before John and Kate had done the same and caught up with him.

The three of them stood side by side on the pavement staring at the taxi. The passenger inside seemed to sense them and turned, his eyes locking on them. He then turned back around and the taxi began to pull away, driving their potential killer away. Rather stupidly, Sherlock tore off after the cab, completely forgetting the road in front of him, he sprinted forward and seconds later a car slammed it breaks, stopping a mere inch from Sherlock.

Kate and John followed suit, and passing the vehicle Kate apologized for Sherlock and ran to catch up with John and Sherlock who were standing and watching the taxi drive further into the distance. "I've got the cab number."

Kate knew that even with the memory of the cab number, the killer would be long gone by the time they traced and located the cab.

"Good for you." said Sherlock, as before he had his fingertip pressed tightly to his temples, his eyes closed and his head was twitching slightly from the to right. Kate was already trying to maintain one step ahead of the killer, trying to figure out where he could be going and what his motive was. Suddenly Sherlock took off again.

Kate groaned and started after him with John hot on her heels. "Does he always do this?" She asked as followed Sherlock around a corner and into an alleyway.

"Yeah. Although he usually gives a heads up." John puffed beside her, they were managing to keep up with Sherlock as they went on a wild goose chase around the city, ducking into alleyways, up spiral stair cases and across the rooftops. Kate wasn't a fan of height so when they were running full speed across the roofs of a five storey building, getting closer and closer to the ledge, she panicked and as a result ended up missing her landing on the other side of the gap, and she tripped, hitting the gravel stones and skinned her knee.

"Shit!" She hissed through the sharp stinging sensation that washed across her knee. It wasn't too bad, but there was blood. After hesitating on the other side, John jumped across and the race was back on.

Back on the safety of ground level, they ran through more alleyways and back streets before finally catching up with the cab. Well more like it hit Sherlock, but pure luck or a genius planned route she did not know. Pulling open the cab door Sherlock scanned the passenger as the driver objected and asked what was going on.

"It's standard procedure." She told him.

She went to the back of the cab to get a look at the passenger for herself.

"Sherlock. It's not him." Kate said stepping away from the cab.

"What?"

"It's not him. He has a suitcase!"

The man's suitcase was resting by his feet. Sherlock turned the label over and observed it. "LAX. Flew in this morning." Frustrated, he slammed his hand on the roof of the cab, startling the passenger, who was watching Sherlock, looking very confused.

"Sorry. Are you guys the police?" He asked in a strong American accent with his false white teeth shining through his lips.

"Yeah." Sherlock lied, somehow producing a warrant card from his pocket and flicking it in the man's face much too quickly for him to get a good look. "Everything alright?" The passenger nodded an unsure reply.

"Great. Welcome to London." and with that Sherlock slammed the door to the cab and waved the driver on. He, John and Kate stood in the road and watch the can drive away slowly and stop at the road works traffic light at the top of the street.

"Not our killer." John summed up, still out of breath.

"Wrong country. Good alibi." Sherlock flipped the warrant card close and went to put it back in his pocket but John was quick and practically snatched it from him. "When did you get a warrant card?" he asked opening it and Kate peered over his shoulder to get a look. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"You stole a DI's warrant card?"

"Yes. I pick pocket him when he's annoying. Which is most of the time."

Kate just happened to glance back up the bank, wondering if the cab had gone. It was a good thing she did or they would have never seen the patrolling police man approaching them. "Well. Shit."

"I've just had a gentleman stop me and inform me that this man." He pointed at Sherlock. "Stopped and searched his cab."

John was about to explain, but Sherlock stepped in. "Yes. We are in the middle of a very important murder investigation. So would you kindly sod off?" God dammit Sherlock! Not helping.

"Alright, I want to see you identifications. Now." He said glaring at Sherlock.

Kate knew all too well that Sherlock would be arrested for stealing a police badge, and probably John too although he had his army identification it didn't qualify him for police duty, so she quickly flashed him her badge before they got into any more trouble.

"Apologies Detective Superintendent. But I still need to see your friends' badges."

Now they were for it. She turned over her shoulder, not knowing how they were going to get out of this one. John could possibly get away with just a warning as he still had is army credentials, but Sherlock would not be so lucky. It certainly didn't help that as soon as Sherlock realised that he was in trouble, he took off down the street with John hot on his heels.

"Of course." She muttered with a roll of her eyes and tore off after them, ignoring the angry shouts of the officer behind her.

They ran back to Baker Street. Five years on the force and Kate couldn't remember that last time she had run that much. As John unlocked the front door, Kate heaved against the railings trying to catch her breath. She had a bad feeling when her phone rang in her pocket.

As expected it was CS Kelly. She informed her that the suspect had been cleared of any drugs or alcohol and was demanding to speak to Kate.

"I'm beginning to think that I'll never get back in my flat."

While Sherlock and John's case seemed to be at a loose end, Kate's case seemed to be making some progress. After going through their records they learned that Adam Wickham was unemployed, unmarried and no children, with no former arrests or cautions.

Kate only hoped that the interrogation came up with some more conclusive.

"Hello Mr Wickham, I'm DS Watson the investigating officer of this case." She pulled up a chair and sat on the opposite side of the table and placed the tape recorder on the table in front of her. She saw his eyes flicker to the recorder and then back at her. "It's standard procedure. Everything that is said in this room must be kept on record." Kate spoke softly as he seemed agitated by something, possibly her presence.

With the tape recorder set up and operating, Kate set about the standard procedures - stating the date and time, her name and title and the suspect's full name. She began by showing Mr Wickham the evidence they found at the scene.

"For the benefit of the tape I am showing Mr Wickham item number one." She pushed the bag containing the gym coupon, and awaited any reaction. There was none. "A coupon, dates two days ago, for a gym membership totalling twenty pounds." There was still no reaction. Nothing, not a change in posture or even a blink.

"We found your wallet. It was empty, as was your coat and you bank accounts, all four of them. You don't have a penny to your name. Where were you planning on getting the money from?"

No reply.

With a sigh Kate glanced behind her at the one way mirror behind her, where she knew Chief Superintendent Kelly would be watching. Facing forward, she slid another plastic evidence bag across the table. "For the benefit of the tape I am now showing the suspect item number two. A single gold key. Does this belong to you?"

He nodded. Finally, a response. It was progress. "Can you tell what this is a key for?"

He shook his head. "This key was hidden in your wallet, as you're telling me you have no idea as to what it does?"

No reply.

She had to try a more blunt approach, it could go either way or back fire on her, but it was worth a shot. "You said that they were going to kill you." There. For the briefest of moments, Kate saw a flicker of emotion on his face. Was that fear she saw? "Who is they?"

Mr Wickham remained silent and whatever emotions he was portraying were soon gone too. "You also said they'll kill them too. Who were you talking about?"

"Adam." She spoke low, trying to coax him from the wall of isolation he had surrounded himself with. "If you know that something has happened or is about to happen to someone, you need to tell us. We can help you."

When he didn't reply for the sixth time Kate could feel herself becoming agitated, and she didn't like how that felt which made her feel it even more so. "You do understand why you are here?"

No reply.

"Oh come on. You and I both know why you are here. Everything will be a hell of a lot easier if you simply co-operate with me."

Whoever he was working for must have some pretty big secrets that he doesn't want getting out, because she was getting nothing out of Mr Wickham. He was really trying her patience now, and Kate did not have much patience.

"Mr Wickham." She stressed, standing and moving round to sit on the edge of the table and leaning down to talk slowly to him. "You asked to speak to me. I'm sitting right in front of you and yet you haven't said a single word."

Mr Wickham sneered and raised his head to stare at Kate. His eyes were dark and heavy as they roamed her face. Still he said nothing.

"Okay." She sighed, standing from the table. Before she could continue she heard the sound of metal scraping against the floor and she had not time to turn around before she was suddenly grabbed from behind and slammed against the wall, her face pressing to the cold wall, hard.

Kate managed to shout for back up, as the breath was crushed from her lungs. The man had a vice grip on the wrist that he had pinned behind her back, its muscles straining. His other hand was tightly wrapped around her hair.

As soon as it happened, his grip was gone and she practically fell backwards by the force which his hand was ripped from her hair, he must have taken some strands of it with him. In the one-way-mirror in front of her, she could see Kelly behind her, as well as two officers who had the man lying on the floor and were in the process of slapping handcuffs on his wrists. As well as their presence, Kate sensed another, and turned around to see another man, on who she did not recognise.

"Take him back to custody!" Kelly yelled over the detained man's shouts as he was dragged away. "We can add assault of a police officer to his charges too."

Kate was standing rigid against the mirror, trying to put on a brave face but inside she was screaming. She didn't even realise that Kelly had a hold of her arms and was speaking to her.

"Kate." She gently shook her, trying to snap her back to reality. "Kate, are you alright?"

She tried to focus, blinking rapidly. "No. Not really." Her voice cracked, it was barely a whisper. "But then again I should be used to that."

"Well it doesn't look like he's going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Why don't you get yourself home." It was an order more than a question. And quite frankly, Kate did not have the energy to argue with her.

She was still curious about the man who had come in with the CS. He was quitw tall and very well groomed in a light brown three piece suit with a white round collared shirt and a wide red tie. His hair was an unusual shade of red, it was so dark that at first she had thought it was brown; it was parted at the side and swept over to the right and then back over into a swirl. His blue eyes and pointed nose sat beneath his arching eyebrows and his thin lips turned down ever so slightly at the corners.

In answer to the Kelly's statement, Kate nodded and made for the door. She made it as far as the door to her office before she felt her knees begin to shake, as did her hands, the adrenaline from moments ago had vanished. Just as she thought she would collapse, a sturdy hand found its way to her elbow.

"Calm yourself." A voice came from behind her and turning, she found it to be the same man who was in the interrogation room. "Breath in through your nose and out with your mouth."

Without a question she did as he instructed and after five deep breaths, her head cleared and her breath steadied and she didn't feel as weak.

"Thanks." She mumbled, looking down at his hand that was still resting on her elbow. Sensing her glance the man quickly withdrew his hold. Kate didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful so she extended her own hand, fully intended for him to take.

"Detective Superintendent Kate Watson."

At the sound of her voice and her name she saw his brows pinch together for the briefest of moments as he accepted the gesture. "Mycroft Holmes."

Holmes? He couldn't be a relation to Sherlock. Could he? He certainly didn't look anything like him. Sherlock had a very prominent face, high cheekbones and a sweeping cupid's bow, not to mention the jet black curls whereas Mycroft had a rather dipped and straight nose, small and straight mouth and short red hair.  _I could just ask him_  she though  _No. Best not._

"If the police have finished their initial investigation Detective, may I offer you a ride home? You've had quite a scare and I have a car waiting outside."

Kate was unsure. She didn't know anything about Mycroft Holmes, except that with a name like Mycroft he must have had something to do with Sherlock. But with her legs still shaken, she gratefully accepted.

Outside, there was a sleek black Jaguar parked out front, it was an impressive car, very official. As his driver assisted Kate into the back of the car, Mycroft turned to her, his face still serious. "Where would you like to go?"

"Baker Street." She said, giving him the exact address. "221 Baker Street."

The car ride was a silent one. The only sound was of the engine and the faint clicking of the keypad of Mycroft's phone as he shot off some texts. With the traffic it was about half an hour before they pulled up to Baker Street. Mycroft's driver opened Kate's door, and stepping out she rummaged for her key in her inside pocket. She turned to thank Mycroft for his kindness and for helping in the interrogation room, only to find him standing on the pavement beside her.

"Saying as you were just attacked, I would feel far more content to see you get home safely." He said as he walked up the few stairs to the front door. "I'm sure I will be fine." She said and followed, unlocking the front door and held it open after her for him to follow. Closing the door soundlessly, she turned and saw Mycroft standing against the wall by the stairs.

"You didn't have to walk me to my door." Mycroft said nothing, he simply smiled, granted it was barely noticeable but it was a smile. Kate gave him a questioning look when he made no comment. He was a strange man, but after his kindness she could not just escape inside and close the door on him. "Would you like to come in for tea?"

"I'd like that." He replied and follow Kate into her flat. She turned the lights on and instantly regretted not cleaning up before she left. There were boxed everywhere, on the table, the counters and the sofa. She quickly busied herself making room on the sofa for her guest to sit.

"I should probably thank you for stepping in back there. I've never had a panic attack that bad before." She took her blazer off on her way to the kitchen, placing it on the table and unknown to her, her warrant card fell out of the pocket and onto the floor.

"It was no trouble on my behalf." He gave a small, barely unreadable smile as he handed her badge over catching her full name as he did.  _Katherine E Watson._  "On the rare occasions that my presence is required, I don't recall ever seeing you there."

Kate came back into living room skillfully carrying two tea cups in one hand and the pot and milk in the other. "I just transferred, well I got reassigned a few weeks ago. I wasn't meant to be starting until the end of the month. But it seems that the criminals of London had other ideas." She placed a tea cup on the table in front of Mycroft and the other for herself next to it. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you doing at the Yard?"

"I maintain a minor role in the British government so when I received a call saying that the nation's security was under threat naturally I had to see for myself what exactly was going on."

Kate finished pouring the tea, before realising that she had no sugar for herself. "Do you take sugar with your tea?"

"Two, please."

"I'll have to go and get some from my brothers flat."

"Does your brother live with you?"

"Not with me, but rather above me. It's just temporary. I was planning on staying in a hotel or something until I got myself sorted with a place of my own, but he worries you see." And for what felt like the tenth time that day, her phone rang. Begrudgingly she pulled it from her blazer on the table. "Sorry do you mind if I get this?"

She answered it and she could barely make out Lestrade's voice over the blaring police and ambulance sirens. "Kate, it's Greg. You need to get to the Roland-Kerr college."

"What's happended?"

"There's been a shooting. John and Sherlock were involved."

Kate's breath hitched and stuck on her throat. "Wh-wh-what happened, are they alright. I-I mean are they hurt?" At her sudden panic, Mycroft had stood from the sofa and was standing beside her, ready to steady her if another panic attack arose.

"I've just gotten here. No one's came out yet, and we're not being told anything, we're completely in the dark."

Kate hung up the phone, numb. He glanced up at Mycroft, she hadn't acknowledged him standing next to her. While trying to keep as calm as she possibly could to stop herself from shutting down, she apologised for her state and explained what had happened.

"We can take my car." He said, pulling out his phone and firing off a text in less than ten seconds. Not a minute later they were back inside the Jaguar and racing through the traffic to the scene.

The ride to the scene was another silent one. Kate was too worried about John to think of anything else, she knew he was okay he could look after himself but she was still entitled to worry.

Pulling up to the college, there were police cars and ambulances crawling the place. She was out of the car before it had even stopped, she threw a thank you over her shoulder to Mycroft as she ran to the ambulance where Lestrade was standing next to Sherlock who was sitting in the back of the ambulance wrapped in an orange blanket.

She began to panic as she did not see John. Her knees felt weak as she tried to run to the ambulance without falling. Kate was no more than three feet of the way when a paramedic crossed in front of her, wheeling a stretcher that was carrying nothing but a closed black body bag.

She prayed that it wasn't her brother.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Transcript courtesy of Ariane DeVere

"Sherlock!"

Kate had leapt from the black Jaguar before it had even stopped and bolted over to where Sherlock was walking away from an ambulance, discarding a bright orange blanket into the back of a parked police car. "What happened? Where's John?"

She was quite flustered and scared, there were police and paramedics and press crawling the place, and she had just seen a body bag being removed and there was no sign of John. "It's alright, John is fine. He's right over there." He pointed and gestured in the opposite direction and she turned to see John ducking under the police tape and making his way towards them.

In the mix of walking and running, she met her brother half way and flung her arms around his neck, pulling him into a bone crushing hug, breathing a sigh of relief as she did. John laughed lightly at his sister's unexpected attack, that was until he saw the worry on her face and the forming tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Lestrade called me and said that there had been a shooting, but then I saw them removing a body from the building and I, I thought that…"

John cut her off by hugging her even tighter. "It's okay. I'm perfectly fine. See?" He held her out at arm's length, frowning as he saw her watering eyes.

"Of course he's fine. Why shouldn't he be?" Sherlock spoke from behind them. "After all you have just killed a man."

Kate stared at her brother who was glaring at his flatmate with annoyance. "Timing!" He hissed.

"You killed someone?"

"Yes, but in fairness he was a serial killer." John stated in defence and went on to tell her all about the proceedings of the night. Basically, since Kate ad left Baker Street not two hours ago, Sherlock had managed to almost get himself killed and John had shot and killed the killer the police had been chasing for weeks. She still couldn't believe that the killer was a simple taxi driver. He was clever, very clever, making his victims chose between two pills with the promise that whichever one they chose, he would take the other. He called their bluff and it killed them.

"I'm hungry. Is anyone else hungry?" Sherlock suddenly asked, already making his way in the opposite direction, away from the scene. "There's a lovely Chinese just at the bottom of Baker Street that stays open until about two."

John frowned again completely passing over Sherlock's suggestion. "What happened to there?" He pointed to her face where faint bruising had slowly began to appear on her jaw line from her recent assault.

"What? Oh, nothing. Just a suspect playing a little rough." She tried to brush it off nonchalantly but John was having none of it. He pressed the issue again, and so she felt forced to tell him about Mr Wickham and the assault. She gave Sherlock a quick side wards glance before deciding against going further and mentioning Mycroft, she still hadn't figured out if they were indeed related.

Speaking of the devil, looking across the car park, on the other side of the police tape, Mycroft was still there, standing by his car leaning on his umbrella. Behind him stood a rather beautiful woman with long brown hair, she had been in the car with them so she figured that she must have been his assistant. The fact that her face seemed to be drawn to her phone helped to prove that theory. Kate never actually caught her name; although she didn't seem to be the slightest bit wary of her surroundings, Mycroft was watching the three of them with great care.  _I should probably thank him_  she thought before turning to John and Sherlock who were trying to decide whether or not Sherlock could really know the fortunes in the cookies before they were actually served. "Hold on just a second."

It had just started to rain as she made her way across the tarmac. It was not a heavy down pour, but more of a drizzle, the type of rain that you cannot actually see but in minutes it had you soaked, so it was quite convenient that by the time she dodged the slowly forming puddles and made it back to the car, that Mycroft was standing there with his umbrella opened above his head.

"Ah Miss Watson." Mycroft said upon her approach. He gestured for her join him under the cover of the umbrella, she gratefully accepted. "What can I do for you?"

Kate pulled her blazer closer around her, trying to fend off the rain on the back of her neck. "I just wanted to say thanks."

"There is no need."

"You have helped me today. Twice. I suppose other people would have just walked on by. So let me thank you Mr Holmes." Mycroft held up a hand to pause her.

"Mycroft. Please." He said with the faintest hint of a smile as he looked down at her. He stood above her by a good five or six had never actually noticed exactly how tall he was until now. "Now if all is finished here, perhaps I could give you a ride back to your flat."

Before she could even think about replying, a voice came from behind her followed by a rather annoyed looking Sherlock, his great coat flapping wildly behind him as he stalked over to them with John in pursuit. "What are you doing here?"

"Another case cracked. How very public spirited. Although, that never has been your true motivation, has it?"

Sherlock let out a sort of half grunt and half sigh, before repeating his question. "What are you doing here?"

"As ever, I'm concerned about you."

"Is that so? IT was never expressed to me."

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no."

Kate felt very awkward, especially as she was still standing underneath the umbrella and was now wedged in between Mycroft and Sherlock, who were still having an argument, if you could call it that.

"We have more in common than you like to believe." Mycroft said, still staring narrow eyed at Sherlock. "This petty feud between us is childish, you know it is. People will suffer. You know how it always upset Mummy."

_Mummy?_  Who was mummy? She looked up and flicked her head from one Holme's to another before turning to John.  _Mummy?_  She mouthed in his direction, and with a look on his face that seemed to say 'I know, right?' John nodded slowly in reply.

"It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft." Sherlock snapped at his brother, elder or younger Kate did not know but at a guess she would have to say older, but not by many years.

"Oh, so you two are actually brothers then?" she asked after a couple of silent glaring. "It's just that…"

Sherlock stopped her mid-sentence. "It's just what?"

"Nothing." She said quickly. "I had a hunch."

Sherlock peered at her for a dew vacant seconds before sighing and clasping his hands behind his back. "Well, good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic." He spun on his heel and began to stalk away. John made to leave to but not before turning back to Kate, giving her a look as if asking her what she was waiting for.

"Just give me a second." She said quietly, giving her hand a small wave and turning back to the elder Holmes. "So Sherlock is you brother." It was more of a statement than a question.

With a reluctant sigh Mycroft bowed his head slightly. "Younger, yes. With much regret." He looked across the car park at Sherlock and John who were waiting by the police tape for Kate to return. He inhaled a little, as if to speak but his eyes seemed to narrow as he looked back to her. With a low tut and a long finger he gestured to her jaw, never touching the skin, and pointed to the newly formed bruise that seemed to have grown in the past few minutes.

"You ought to be more careful of where you tread Miss Watson. You never know whose path you will cross." With a hand still on the umbrellas wooden and curved handle, Mycroft reached into the inside breast pocket of his three piece and pulled out a small piece of paper. "I'm going to give you my card. Do not hesitate to call if you ever need assistance of any kind."

He handed her the card and as she took it she noticed a plain, thin gold band on his right hand. "Why are you doing this?" She asked sounding harsher than she had intended. "I mean, why are you being so nice to me? Surely you have more important things to be doing."

Mycroft's face softened, and the grip on the handle tightened. "Because much like you own brother, I think you will be good for Sherlock. Having you around, as well as John may keep him grounded.

"Sir," His assistant, Anthea was standing behind him, her brown hair falling in front of her face as her eyes looked down on her phone, as they usually were. "Shall we go?"

Kate took that as her queue to leave, and so wrapping her blazer around her body again she turned and lightly jogged over to where John and Sherlock were waiting for her.

Mycroft Holmes had never been someone who would find another person intriguing, or even interesting to say the least, he tolerate most people, or just simply did not bother with them. But there was something about the younger Watson that he found bearable, he would even go as far as to say comforting. He watched her as she left with his brother and the doctor, and as he watched he analysed.

She was of average height, around five foot five. Natural blond, though darker than most. She had an athletic build, well trained arms and legs that were lightly muscular. Tanned skin. Light freckles dusting across her nose, obviously spent some time in a coastal city or travelled quite a bit. She was left-handed, he had noted that as she had picked up her teacup using her left. Approximately mid-twenties ranging to late twenties, with a faint worry line above her brow more than likely from the stress of her police work. Her hair was cut neatly to her shoulder, edging just below, and it was set in waves, natural not applied. Although her hair was blond, her thick and subtly arched eyebrows were darker, almost brown which suggested a colour had been used but the hair roots were an even shade that seemed to compliment her brown, almost hazel eyes. She was born and raised in the London area, as she had a hint of the accent when she spoke.

The three of them, Sherlock, John and Kate, made their way to leave the scene with every intention of loading themselves up with greasy Chinese food, and as soon as that was done Kate was planning on falling into her bed and not surfacing for at least a week. London had certainly made an impression Kate looked back over her shoulder one last time and saw the smallest glimpse of a tweed suit ducking under the door frame and disappear into the back of the sleek black car.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Apologies for this incredibly short chapter, I have been so busy with college and work that I've had hardly any time to write.
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has read this story and given it a kudos and a bookmark!
> 
> Any transcript used is courtesy of Ariane DeVere.
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

Ice Man No More

The tolls of the bells of Parliament and Big Ben spread over London as midnight came and went and the smell of takeaway filled the air as Sherlock and the Watson's rounded the corner onto Baker Street. Sherlock had opted for calling them the Watson's, he did not know why, it just seemed to have stuck.

Much to his surprise Sherlock had grown quite fond of Katherine Watson, he had managed to steal a quick glance at her driving licence when she left her purse in his flat that morning; although it had only been eighteen hours since the youngest Watson moved in, Sherlock could see that she and John were almost the same.

If their looks weren't enough, then their personalities were a dead giveaway. They shared the same sandy brown hair and small rounded nose, as well as the straight mouth and not to mention their physical form. John was a soldier, well a doctor but a soldier none the less, and Kate is a police officer, not forgetting the few years of undercover work that John had told him she completed in the first few years of her career.

Reaching Baker Street, John handed the bags of food to Kate so he could unlock the front door, careful not to disturb their surely sleeping landlady. They were about to take their own share of food and disperse to their flats when Kate suggested that the three of them ate in her flat. "It's easier than separating everything. And I really can't be bothered to walk up those stairs."

Kate's flat was quite small for having two bedrooms. The living room was a good two or three feet smaller than that of 221B's, which explained the reasoning behind all three of them being squashed side by side on the three piece sofa rather than in their own individual chairs. They had dished out their own portions of noodles and chicken with sauce and in Sherlock's opinion, were carrying out the quite droll and rather tedious notion of general small talk and pleasantries while eating.

Sherlock was just about to shovel a pile of noodles into his mouth, he was usually a tad more dignified whenever he ate but since it had been almost six days since his last meal, it mattered not, when he suddenly stopped the hand holding his fork mid-air and turned to face Kate.

"You had a hunch." He said.

Kate was confused. Was he doing that thing where he finished off a conversation that had been had over a few weeks ago, he just hadn't been paying attention?

"What?" She asked, setting down her glass of water onto the coffee table.

"At the college, you said you had a 'hunch' that Mycroft and I were related."

"Oh. Did I?" Narrowing her eyes, Kate failed to see his point, but she said nothing and continued to eat her food.

Even though she was engaged in a conversation with John, every mouthful she took or every time she reached for a drink of her water, she could see Sherlock practically glowering at her in her peripheral.

Heaving a sigh Kate dropped her hands holding her fork and carton onto her legs that were crossed under her. "What now?" She sighed, tucking a fallen curl behind her ear and returning the glower.

"I wasn't aware that you and my brother were already…acquainted." Sherlock said giving a sharp shrug of his shoulders; Kate noted the sigh and rather exasperated expression on her brother's face.

Sherlock ignored this completely and rather obnoxiously sniffed the air, looking around the flat as he did so.

"What was my brother doing here?" He asked sniffing the air once more, even more obnoxiously as he had before. Kate was slightly grateful that John had decided against commenting, but now she wished that he would say something, anything.

"He wasn't." She stated simply, avoiding his glare. She knew that it wasn't a big deal. She was just being friendly, inviting him in after he had helped her. But to Sherlock, it seemed that she had just started World War Three.

"Please, you are as transparent as John. This entire room stinks of his over powering cologne." Sherlock said with a grimace. "Did he offer you money to spy on me? He's in the habit of doing that these days."

"That's true." John clarified waving his fork that had some noodles wrapped around its prongs. "I can remember not even twelve hours after I moved into Baker Street did Mycroft Holmes  _politely_  waylaid me and offered me money to be his personal spy. I don't know what Sherlock was more annoyed at, the fact that his brother had done that or rather that I didn't take the money for us to split. But in all seriousness, he didn't lure you a practically scarce and dark parking lot and offer you a huge amount of money?" Kate stared at her brother. Was he being serious? That actually happened?

"No. There was no car parks or money or luring." She said, still not believing that had actually happened. Sure, her first impression of Mycroft was that he was an authoritative man with an obvious amount of power. But to kidnap someone, as Sherlock and John had put it, seemed a little too far fetched and more than likely exaggerated.

Again they pressed and continued to pester and bombard her with questions and queries. It was getting to the point where Kate's bites of food were beginning to grow louder and steadily become more aggressive and exasperated.

"Maybe he just dropped by?" John suggested, growing bored with the topic. He could sense that his younger sister was too feeling the strain of Sherlock's constant persisting and pestering.

"No." Sherlock stated. "Mycroft never just 'drops by'. The only possible for my brother to drop by would be if he needed something, and he always needs something."

Feeling reluctant to tell them the full extent of the incident at the station, Kate remained silent. It was not like anything serious had happened to her, she hadn't been hurt so she honestly didn't see what would be beneficial about telling them about Wickham, and how he attacked her. Or about how Mycroft ensured that she made it home safely. She knew fine well that Sherlock was pissed off that his brother had been here; judging by his reaction to her already knowing Mycroft she thought it best to leave it.

"I honestly don't see what your problem is Sherlock. I couldn't not invite him in, it seemed rude not to. And if you really must know," Kate sighed, dropping her fork into her take out box. "As you both know, my suspect had a sudden change of heart during the interrogation and ended up being re-arrested and charged for the assault of a police officer."

John nodded slowly remembering how he had clocked the steadily deepening bruise that had formed on her jaw. Glancing at it once more he could see that the swelling had decreased slightly but the bruising was still prominent and a mix of violent reds and purples.

Sherlock on the other hand did not share this sympathy and scowled.

"What?" Kate asked.

"Oh nothing. Nothing except the fact that you invited my brother into my flat without permission were he has more than likely planted his tiny little bugs all over the place."

She scoffed at this. "You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?"

"Yes. You are." Kate retorted. "First of all we had tea in my flat, not yours. Second, we had tea! Just tea. Nothing too earth shattering. There was no scheming and no spying."

Sherlock huffed and took a mouthful of his food. "Hardly likely."

"In fact, he wasn't even here for five minutes because I had to come and collect the two of you from the college where you were too busy provoking a dangerous killer."

Unsurprisingly to most, Kate found that she was no longer in the mood to finish her supper. She was still hungry, starving in fact but he cod not force herself to sit there a moment longer. She had had a very long, tiring and...interesting day for the use of a better word and so retiring to bed seemed to be the best solution at the moment. Giving John a quick kiss goodnight on the cheek, she took her food and dumped it on the kitchen counter, the fork clattered loudly as it fell from the carton.

John and Sherlock watched silently as Kate exited the kitchen, flitting through the living room, her bare feet padded across the carpeting before her bedroom door closed with a hefty and firm slam. John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Proud of yourself?" He shot Sherlock a quick, passing glance before he too took his food to the kitchen and scraped the cartons contents into the metal bin by the fridge.

"I don't understand." Sherlock said sounding generally confused and from the kitchen John exited carrying his and Sherlock's coat.

"No. You never do, do you?"

"Yes. You're quite right, John." Sherlock said much to John's surprise. "I don't suppose I will ever understand exactly what it is that makes you Watson's so irritably emotional."

"Emotional? What the hell does that mean? I am not emotional!." John snapped throwing Sherlock his coat who was smirking at his flat mate's tantrum.

"Of course not John."

Back in her bedroom, Kate was too tired and fed up to do anything other than simply crawl into her bed and hide under the covers. It was some accomplishment having lived in her new flat for less than a day and she had already been out on an case of national importance, been assaulted and almost started an Armageddon like situation. Well in Sherlock's mind she had.

Don't get her wrong, she didn't not like Sherlock, she saw him as an intelligent man who seems to have played a hand in getting her brother's life back to normal. She could also see that he was an incredibly stubborn and most of the time childish and just plain ignorant, but it had only been one day.

It seemed that living with Sherlock Holmes would certainly take some getting used to.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Now we go almost straight into The Blind Banker. If anyone has any ideas for any cases or filler chapters or anything that they would wish to see included then please do not be afraid to let me know.
> 
> I know that this chapter is incredibly short and I do apologise for that but I just felt that the full chapter was getting too long so I split it into two.
> 
> The second part should be following soon!
> 
> I really need to know if you guys are liking this story so if you could please leave a little review then I would be grateful. And also don't forget to tell me anything you want to see happen, I've already had some good ideas and I'm going to try my absolute hardest to include them all.
> 
> Any transcript used is courtesy of Ariane DeVere.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Ice Man No More

All through his life it seemed that Mycroft Holmes had been burdened with the role of looking after his ill-mannered and quite frankly insufferable younger brother. There was no great age difference between them, but that being said, those seemingly miniscule five years had burdened the elder Holmes to no avail. Even as they were growing up, when Mycroft was in his last years at their private school and Sherlock was simply beginning, it always fell the Mycroft to look after him.

Even now at the age of thirty-six, he still felt that weighty responsibility and so with the incident of three nights past still circulating the police station as well as the local papers, Mycroft decided it would be best to pay a visit to The New Scotland Yard and set things straight.

It had been a lengthy meeting and the majority of the time was spent discussing his brothers and Doctor Watson's daring escapades at the college. He was informed that the forensics team had managed to retract the bullet that had killed Mr. Hope, the taxi driver and the ballistics team had confirmed that a bullet of this calibre but with the bullet having the possibility of belonging to one of thirty eight thousand owned and licensed handguns in the country, the police, with much help from Detective Inspector Lestrade decided that it would be a waste of the police force's time and money to try and pursue the culprit, although Mycroft could tell that deep in his mind Lestrade had a more important reason for calling the search off.

Mycroft's phone rang and Anthea, his assistant informed him that his car was waiting outside to take him to Downing Street, where he was to have a meeting with the Prime Minister in under an hour. He sighed and pinched his nose, scrunching his eyes. It was going to be a long day and after one meeting that lasted nearly two hours, he honestly could not find the strength to sit through the four other meetings and conferences he had on his already tight schedule today.

He wanted nothing more than to just get this day over and done with, so he could return home for what seemed like it would be the first time in days. As he made his way to the lift that would take him to the main reception area, a fury of raised voices stopped him.

"Solid? We found him at the scene, with the bloody laptop. He was surrounded by surveillance for christ sakes!"

He turned in its general direction and much to his surprise he saw Miss Watson storming out of her office, a face like thunder and shouting as a meek looking officer in uniform followed her. It was evident that she was distressed, more than likely from the thick file she had clenched tightly in her hand, it was bulging with pieces of paper and photographs, and from what he could see they were taken at the scene in which the alleged hacking took place. As she stormed across the office floor, she passingly caught his eye and slowed.

Running a hand through her loose blonde hair, she handed to officer behind her the file. "Take this to the Chief Superintendent. Ask her to set up a team brief for thirty minutes time." The officer took the file and nodded briskly. "Miller. You know this case better than any of the officers here. I'm putting you in charge of the briefing. Don't let me down."

She didn't wait for a reply before she walked away and made her way across the office floor towards Mycroft. He had to admit that he was surprised at first, she seemed to be far too busy to spare anytime, and especially after the scare she had the other night, he did not expect to see her delved this deep into a case.

"Hello, Mycroft." She said, walking over.

"Good morning Detective Superintendent." He replied with a faint smile, keeping it formal, noting how the once vibrant red and purple bruise had since faded to a faint pink mark. "Not that it has anything to do with me, but I didn't think that uniformed officers were allowed to give the briefings?"

"They don't, usually. But I like Miller and he's a good police officer, he deserves some credit when it's due. I wish someone would have given me a chance like that when I was a rookie." She said with a light shrug. "So, what are you doing here?"

"It seems that both of our sibling's actions did not go without attracting attention. I was just making arrangements to keep this little escape from making the news, and making sure that any and all charges against them had been dropped entirely."

"Oh, right. Well thank you for that." She gave a small sigh of relief, it was some weight off her shoulders knowing that everything had been sorted. "It was very unlikely that John would have been charged with anything other than acting in self-defence but thank you all the same." She laughed to herself quietly. "There I go again. Thanking you."

Mycroft did not know why but he felt a smile tug at his usually straight and pressed lips. He shook of the feeling, not really sure on where they were leading or if he was at all comfortable with it. "Anything I can do to help."

Now if there was one thing that Mycroft Holmes could put his hand on his heart and say, it would be that he is an extremely rational and head strong man. He always knew which direction he was heading in, and what the plausible outcome would be, but now there was something in the back of his mind, something which he did not know whether it would be worth his while.

There was nothing romantic about what he was about to do, not by a long shot, but it was something that he had only done a few times in his life, so few in fact that he could count the occurrences on one hand. "Kate," His own voice startled him, he hadn't meant to speak out loud. God, she was watching him now, and listening, which meant that there was no backing out now. "I can see that you are busy but perhaps you would consider joining me for coffee sometime?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay in updating, I have so much happening at the moment, including two plays and summer school.
> 
> I really hope I did this chapter justice, it took me so long to get it to a good enough level that I felt comfortable with posting it and yet, I'm still not happy with it, but I feel that I have kept everyone waiting for a ridiculous amount of time.
> 
> I hope this longer chapter makes up for it. I will admit, I squealed a little when writing this.
> 
> Any transcript used is courtesy of Ariane DeVere.
> 
> *MORE NOTES AT THE END*
> 
> Enjoy :)

Ice Man No More

Coffee?

Mycroft Holmes, the man who Sherlock and her brother described as straight pressed in a suit, intimidating and according to them, downright obnoxious, was asking her to join him for coffee? But then again, if there was anything to learn from Sherlock is that whatever Sherlock Holmes says is escalated rather dramatically. The pair of them did love to be ever so melodramatic.

She knew that she hadn't known the elder Holmes for any great amount of time but it was twice in the same day that he had helped her when she was like a bloody damsel in distress. Kate knew fine well that she was many things, but weak and needy was something she was not. "Sorry." Mycroft's voice reeled her back to reality. It was only then that she realized that throughout her thought process she had been staring at him.

"If this is a bad time…"

"No." She jumped in, surprising herself with the unnecessary volume of her remark. "No, not at all. It's just that I have a few loose ends here that need tying up but I could be finished in about an hour." She said looking at her right wrist for her watch. "I could meet you there?"

After texting her the address of the café, Mycroft left the yard, already in the middle of a seemingly important phone call. The café wasn't too far from the yard, it was right in the middle of the city centre so it would only take her Kate underestimated exactly how long it would take her to finish her paper work, in less than twenty five minutes she had read, in the lightest of terms, all necessary case notes on the hacking and Adam Wickham so she thought that it would be worthwhile to drop in on the briefing and see how Miller was holding up.

The all-important briefing was underway and in full swing by the time Kate quietly slunk into the back of the room. She was pleased to see the Miller was handling it well, a little jittery here or there but otherwise alright. She knew, as it had been pointed out, that it was unusual for uniformed officers to deliver any briefing at all, but as she had told Mycroft, she only wished that someone had seen her potential and given her the opportunity to put herself out there; by the look on Chief Inspector Kelly's face, she was impressed.

Miller went through each case note with precise care and detail, making sure not to leave out anything that Kate had previously written for him. Just the main necessities, the suspects profile and background biography and probable motive, the exact full intention of the hacking which would have enabled Wickham to have full and unlimited control of all and every security camera and system in the nation.

"Detective Superintendent Watson, is there anything else you want to add?" Miller asked after he had clicked onto the last slide of his rather efficiently put together presentation slides.

Standing straight now out of the corner, all eyes were now on Kate. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Detective Superintendent Kate Watson and I'm running the Wickham hacking case. Second, I just want to reiterate what PC Miller has already said. However, the courts have declined us a case as they state that the evidence we have collected at the scene is not solid enough for a decent standing, but that doesn't mean that there is nothing to be found." She glances at her watch again, seeing that it had almost been an hour. "Right, sorry, I've got to dash. Everyone keep up the good work. Miller, you have the floor."

The walk to the coffee shop would have only taken around twenty to thirty minutes and usually she would have preferred to walk through the town than take the car but this time she was already going to be late even if she took the car.

Arriving at the given address, she was not that late perhaps about ten minutes or so; she saw that it was a very small and equally quaint with fabric couches and arm chairs on the far side beside a reading corner, and on the other was to sort of dining area which was spacious with glass round top tables and fabric chairs that matched the arm chairs. It was in the middle of the shop that she saw Mycroft already seated at a table reading a newspaper.

She suddenly felt like she was about to get in trouble, like a school girl who had been sent to head masters office.  _Don't be stupid Kate. It's just tea, he's not going to scold you or try to bribe you to spy on Sherlock for a weighty sum of money like John had told you._ What she hadn't realized was that throughout her tangent of ramblings, her mind had failed to tell her legs to stop walking and she managed to stop herself seconds before she actually walked into the table.

Mycroft looked up from his newspaper that now had a human shaped shadow cast over the section he was reading. "Well, good," He glanced at his watch, inspecting the time, "afternoon Miss Watson."

"Sorry I'm late, there was a lot more paper work than I expected and then I got pulled into the Wickham case briefing and then the traffic coming into town was absolutely ridiculous…and I'm rambling." She stopped and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Which is absolutely ridiculous, so I'm going to sit down now." She said quickly and pulled out her chair to sit. She hadn't even touched the seat when her phone chimed with a text.

_Don't be a case, please. Give me a freaking break!_

She took one look at the name that was illuminating her phone screen and ruining her coffee date with Mycroft. Wait. Coffee  _date_? Coffee meeting surely. Or even just coffee, right? Her phone chimed again, pulling her from her thought and she thought about opening them both. They were both from Sherlock and so the idea was of course weighing on the mind as there were a number of reasons why Sherlock Holmes would be texting her.

The first was if she had somehow managed to anger or annoy him and as much entertainment as she got from rearranging his sock index when she was bored, angry Sherlock is a scary thing to witness.

Two. John had also done something miniscule to annoy him and he thought that by texting Kate she would drop what she was currently doing and rush home to tell John to stop it.

Three, and his second favourite reason, was that he needed a favour from the good people of Scotland Yard, and by good people he meant associates and by associates he meant Kate and Lestrade. Again, she didn't understand why he didn't just call or text Lestrade directly. She isn't he bloody secretary.

And the fourth and final reason, which coincidently was his favourite and most popular choice. He had a case. And he wanted people around to witness how brilliant he is so he would

Mycroft did not utter a sound as he watched her scan her phone, obviously debating something. He simply waved a passing waitress over to take their drinks order. "Just a tea and two sugars for me, thank you." He said simply and looked over at Kate who had now removed her blazer and was sporting a pale and sleeveless button down blouse; she was staring down at her mobile phone, her brows furrowed together in a mixture of confusion and what seemed to be annoyance.

Kate had been wrong. She one hundred percent believed that Sherlock would be asking her to run to Baker Street and help him with a case. But she was wrong.

**What are you doing? – SH**

Now this was a turn up for the books. Since when did Sherlock just casually drop in with a 'Hey, what you up to?' text. She closed that one and opened the next, which was delivered all but twenty six seconds later.

**Why are you having coffee with my brother? – SH**

She glanced up quickly and looked around, half expecting to see Sherlock standing behind them. But instead she saw both Mycroft and a rather made up Barbie doll waitress staring down at her with her pen and note pad ready to take her order. "Oh sorry." She quickly apologised, and gritted her teeth as another text came through. Did this man ever quit? "Just an uh hot chocolate for me thanks." The waitress jotted it down and then perkily bounced away and Kate rapidly typed a reply.

**Are you following me? - KW**

"I can't help but get the feeling that you're distracted." Mycroft said as she opened the third text to be received in under a minute.

**No need for stalking. Much like my brother, I have eyes and ears all over the city. So I ask again, why are you having coffee with my brother? - SH**

"It's nothing. Well, its Sherlock so it will obviously be something."

"Yes, quite." He folded his newspaper away and she placed her phone face down on the table without bothering to reply. "How has my brother been? I trust he's been behaving himself."

"It's safe to say that he wasn't exactly too overjoyed that I invited you into my flat for tea, a while back. He still brings it up in conversation. I don't know what was going on up there this morning but Mrs Hudson was complaining about an awful lot of banging and shou…"

The waitress, who had just brought their drinks, moved to the side and Kate's eyes drifted to just behind Mycroft and focused in on the couple entering the café; she trailed off mid-sentence. "Oh no."

Mycroft seemed concerned. "What's wrong?" He tried to look behind him at what had seemed to spook her but she pulled on his jacket sleeve to prevent him from doing so.

"Don't. If they know that we've seen them, they'll feel obliged to come over. Which they are, oh splendid." She spoke through her teeth as a nasally voice split through the air.

"Kate?" The sound grinded through Mycroft like a jiggered blade. "Kate Watson, is that you?"

Kate lowered her head slightly and silently cursed to her feet before raising a hand in a small wave. "An old acquaintance of yours, I gather?" Mycroft asked as the couple made their way over, judging by Kate's head slowly moving to the side.

"Yup." She said, popping the p. "Ex-boyfriend."

Mycroft could sense her discomfort, and with no recollection as to why he did it, perhaps it was to ease her comfort and to relieve her of any embarrassment he, without a second though, took his hand from underneath the table and gently placed his hand atop of hers. Her fingers flexed at the contact and she looked at their hands and then to him.

Soon two long shadows cast on the floor by his feet and Mycroft turned and got his first glance at the 'ex-boyfriend.' Standing next to him was a tall man, a little taller than him, with a scruffy beard and equally scruffy blonde hair stuffed under a black oversized beanie hat. The woman dangling from his arm was in a different kettle of fish entirely. She too was tall and admittedly quite attractive, with long straight black hair that just seemed to stick to her skinny face and neck.

"Oh my god. I haven't seen you in like forever." The woman said. Her voice still did not fail to grind on Kate's every nerve.

"Not since university." She nodded. "Almost five years now, Natalie."

"You look great. Amazing." The blonde said with a coil smile that quite frankly repulsed Kate. Back in university when she was much younger and very naive she would have swooned, but not now. Now it was a tell-tale sign that he was nothing more than a player and a double crosser.

"Thanks Leon. You too." Okay, that was a lie, he looked like a sleazy grease ball, what did she ever see in him? "How have you been?"

"We've just bought a flat!" Natalie almost burst as she spoke, clinging to Leon's arm and grinning like a bloody Cheshire cat. "Isn't that great?"

"That it is." Kate forced herself to say, thinking it would be better to grin and bear it than respond in a hostile manner.

"Yeah, well we would never have been able to afford one if Leon hadn't gotten his promotion last month. He was made the manager of his division at work, and he got his own office and a company car and everything." Jesus, was she  _still_  talking?

"An office? Wow, that's…great. What do you do?" Kate asked, not in the slightest bit interested.

"Marketing and Advertising." Leon replied with a smug grin on his face. Ugh she hated him. She truly did.

"A manager of adverts? Wow, I'm impressed." She seemed to pass of the sarcasm, for the sole purpose that neither of them were all that bright, it just went straight over their heads.

"What about you? The last I heard you were still up in Edinburgh." Natalie asked sweetly. A little too sweetly.

"I was. Got promoted to Detective Superintendent at the beginning of the year and was transferred here to Scotland Yard. Got my own office too."

"Oh. So you've moved here? For good?" Leon asked, a little too hopeful but Natalie didn't seem to catch on. But Mycroft did and he could feel his patience wearing thin. Kate must have sensed this too and gave his hand a small squeeze.

"I'm living with my brother at the minute but it's not too bad. Things seem to be looking up."

"Yes, I can see that." Natalie said eyeing Mycroft who was still holding her hand, well eyeing up his expensive clothes and making the assumption that he was wealthy, and deciding that she liked what she saw. That was one thing Kate has always said about Natalie from day one. She had no humility, she did not care what other people thought of her as long as she got what she wanted in the end. And it was more than enough times money.

Thankfully, Leon appeared to witness this also and made a rather failed attempt at lying. "Well, we've got to go. We've got some…shopping to do." He started pulling Natalie from the table. "It was great seeing you again Kate and," He stopped and retraced a few steps. "I'm sorry I don't think I caught your name." He spoke directly to Mycroft and Kate tensed. She realised that Mycroft had not said a single word throughout all this and she actually dreaded what he would say.

"That's plausible. Considering I did not give it."

Leon and Natalie shared uncertain glance to one another and gave an obviously feigned and awkward laugh, the pair of them shuffled uncomfortably. "Right." Leon spoke, but this time he made eye contact with Kate as opposed to Mycroft. "Well again, it was nice seeing you."

"Yeah, you too." And without another word, they turned on their heels and abruptly made for the door. Natalie turned over her shoulder and threw a wave and a smile in Kate's direction to which she returned it with a slight wiggle of her fingers and pulled her lips in a tight line.

Once the coast was at last clear, she dropped her hand and smile and let out a mutter under her breath. "Tramp." Or so she thought she had muttered, perhaps not going by the fact that Mycroft almost choked on his tea. She would have apologized there and then but it was at that moment that it quickly dawned on her that their hands were very much still curled around one another's.

"Sorry." She muttered but made no motion to move her hand, not that she could for her fingers were tightly locked under Mycroft's slender ones. He was looking quite bashful as he spoke. "It's entirely my fault. I thought that it would somehow help if your ex-boyfriend saw you with someone who he had reason to believe was competition." He said a little flustered and much like her, he made no attempt of moving his hand. "I'll give you your hand back."

He began to slowly uncurl his fingers but for some strange and unknown reason, a one that Kate felt in the pit of her stomach, she didn't want him to. "No. Leave it." She all but whispered and hooked her pointer finger around his. "I don't mind." She smiled timidly, watching through her split bangs for any signs that she was being too forward or completely wrong about the signals she was receiving.

A much to her surprise, he did not withdraw his hand as originally planned but instead he kept it where it was, only he moved his fingers slightly so they were interlinking with two of hers and they simply held on loosely. Well this was certainly not how she had thought coffee would go. In truth she had no expectations and she had thought that what John and Sherlock has said about him asking her to spy on them for money to be true so she was, in the back of her mind, expecting him to make her an offer. Not buy her a drink and hold her hand.

Not that she was complaining. It was nice, comforting even. And even though she had known the man all of a month, this somehow felt right. Kate was snapped from her day dreams when Mycroft questioned why she was so anxious around her ex-boyfriend.

"Leon and I had dated a little over a year. I was young and stupid and thought that everything was going great. That was until I went back to the room that I shared with Natalie after a night class and found them in bed together." Admittedly Kate wanted to punch herself. Everyone had told her that guys like him didn't stick around for long, and in the end she would just wind up getting hurt.

"You know, all this time and he blamed me for it. For everything. Saying that I was never there for him, or how I was always busy studying or working. Apparently I cared too much about my dead bodies and murderers than I did him, so he slept with my best friend because he was lonely, and I wouldn't put out for him." She stopped. Maybe just a tad too much information. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

Mycroft held up a hand, he free one at that. "It's quite alright." They sat for a few moments in silence, and they both seemed quite content with it. Mycroft kept glancing at their intertwining fingers and tried to reason with his emotions. After all this was completely out of character for him and his usual withdrawn self, but there was something about the feel and touch of her plump fingers pressed to his, real skin of skin contact with a woman, something that had been of a long absence, that made him content. Happy, even.

Do not mistake, Mycroft Holmes was not estranged to the feel and touch of a woman, but it had been a long time since he had ever felt like this by such a simple gesture. And truth to be told, he missed it.

There was still one thing neither of them could seem to figure out was why they were both being so awkward to one another. Here they were having coffee and holding hands across the table, as two acquaintances who have a similar way of thinking and seem to get along rather well, not to go too far as to call them friends, and yet they both seemed to be top toe around each other.

"If you don't mind me saying, I think it to be the other way around. I was clear that he didn't care about you, possibly because you were young, and as you wrongfully stated – stupid. In my opinion, it is he who is not good enough for you."

Oh. Wow. That was actually really sweet. Kate felt a smile tug to her lips and a blush creep up her cheeks and settle. "You're too kind, Mycroft. I only wish I could do something in return."

"You already have."

Her brows pinched. "What do you mean?"

"It not for me personally, but rather something that is quite personal to me." He uncrossed his legs and tucked them under his chair. He rested his elbows on the table and leant on them. "I want to thank you for looking after Sherlock. Truth be told we don't express it verbally but I do care about my younger brother. I worry about him, constantly. Both you and John have been almost like a god send."

"Some god send I am. I've haven't even been here for three weeks and so far he's managed to almost kill himself with cyanide and get involved in a shooting."

A low laugh spilt from his finely pressed lips and he straightened. "Yes, that is a mild comparison to what he was like in his younger days, believe me."

"Oh so he was always chasing serial killers and snacking on cyanide pills?" She laughed, and then thought that is may have been a tad inappropriate, but she saw a small and barely readable smile on Mycroft's face.

"I don't recall any of that but however, there was the time he got himself arrested for borrowing." Note the use of air quotes around 'borrowing', "a police vehicle to pursue a suspect of a case that was supposedly meant to be top secret, strictly confidential. But somehow he got his grubby little hands on it."

"Oh my god, I don't believe it." Actually come to think of it, she did. "How old was he?"

Mycroft recalled on his memorized calendar of things that Sherlock had done that would permanently be etched in his memory. "This was in the early nineties so maybe sixteen or seventeen."

Kate was overall shocked, but then again she wasn't completely. "He was sixteen and he stole a police car?!"

"I think he simply did it to annoy me. Countless time I have had to bargain and reason with magistrate courts, police and parliament because my baby brother cannot seem to keep himself from trouble."

She nodded and gently stretched a finger that was beginning to fall asleep. "Trouble does have a way of finding him." It was then that her phone vibrated loudly on the table causing her to startle a little. "Speaking of trouble." Half expecting it to be the boy wonder himself, Kate was relieved when she saw that it was only Lestrade. But then again, that could only mean one thing.

_"Hello, Kate? Lestrade here, listen, I need you to come into Central London. There's been a suicide."_

"Another one? Not to question you skills as a detective sir, but isn't Jeffery Hope dead?"

_"This has nothing to do with The Study in Pink killer. It's completely different. City worker was found in his flat, looks like he shot himself."_

"Well, if it was…hold on. 'A Study in Pink'? Someone's been doing a little light reading."

_"Yes, well I like to keep up to date with what Sherlock and John are up to as they feel very reluctant to tell me. Anyway, will you come?"_

"If it was suicide then why do you need me?"

_"I'm out of town for a couple of days, so I pulled Dimmock in."_

"Dimmock? The new DI?" She asked not fully understanding how he could justify pulling Dimmock, someone who had only recently joined the yard about six weeks ago, into a case without consulting her first. Not that he was required to of course but she just thought that they had some sort of mutual understanding.

_"Yeah, so if you could just go down there and be an extra pair of eyes."_

"Okay. Text the address and I'll get over there as soon as I can."

Hanging up the phone with a sigh, Kate waited for the text from Lestrade with the address. "I'm really sorry to cut things short, but as my luck would have it, I have another case?" She finished the bittersweet dregs of chocolate powder that were brewing at the bottom of the cup.

"Surely not another hacking? I would have been informed." Mycroft questioned and quirked his brow when she pulled her mouth into a straight line, the chocolate remains were obviously much too strong for her tastes.

Placing her cup back on the saucer, she came to the dilemma that she would actually have to use both of her hands to leave. "'scuse me." She laughed quietly and wiggled her fingers as a signal for Mycroft to release them. He looked at her and then upon realising made a visible 'o' with his mouth before bringing his hand away. Kate stood and took her blazer from the back of the chair. "No, not another hacking, thank god. A suicide."

"Another suicide?"

"Yes, but not the same ones as before. Same outcome, different motive. Nothing for the government to worry about." As she pulled her blazer onto her shoulders her phone buzzed with the location of the city workers home address. "So, I'm afraid I must leave." She pushed the phone back into the pocket at her hip and when she looked up she was surprised to see Mycroft already standing up.

"Thank you for the drink, I'll have to repay you sometime." She smiled and untucked her hair from the back of the lapels of her blazer. Not really knowing how to finish this meeting or whatever it decided to label itself, she stuck her hand out.  _Seriously Kate? A freaking handshake!_  She didn't think that anything else would have been acceptable but a handshake just implied that this was a business meeting of some sort.

With a faint smile pulling to his mouth, Mycroft in turn took her hand, giving it a firm shake. "You needn't repay me Miss Watson, your company was payment enough." He seemed quite surprised at himself for saying that. "To tell the truth, it was quite a breath of fresh air. As opposed to politicians and prime ministers."

She actually giggled at that. Who knew that Mycroft Holmes could actually be a little whimsy? She smiled before looking down and realising that they were in the same predicament as before. The one where they seemed to have forgotten to release their holds on each other's hands. "Sorry." She whispered and dropped her hand. "Right. Crime scene." She said and was gone.

She hurried out of the coffee shop and hopped in her car, turning on its lights and sirens; what she didn't know was that if she had looked over her shoulder at that moment she would have noticed the smile, granted it was subtle but still present, that was twitching at the lips of Mycroft Holmes. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely busy at the moment but I will try my hardest to update whenever I can, but I will say this now, the next update will probably not be for a while, I'm not sure how long as I have a lot of stuff going on at the moment, but I am writing whenever I can.
> 
> However I am actually planning another story, as I've only recently discovered the BBC's adaptation of Robin Hood (seriously how am I only finding out about this now?), so I am currently planning various stories but this is the one I think had the most potential. Here's a basic plot summary:
> 
> A Guy of Gisborne/OC and Robin/Marian. (Slight AU where Robin and Marian were married before he left for the Holy Lands.) Robin returns from the Holy War to Locksley, only to learn that his dear younger sister, Margaret, has been taken to Nottingham where she is to marry Guy of Gisborne in order for her to maintain their estates in Locksley. Robin's rebellions against the Sheriff excel he unintentionally puts Margaret's life into danger.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or send me a message if you have any ideas for this story or any other story you would like to see me write.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Any transcript used is courtesy of Ariane DeVere.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> *NOTES AT THE END*

* * *

Ice Man No More

It took roughly around thirty minutes, whilst in the traffic, to drive to the latest victim's flat which gave Kate  _plenty_ of time to reflect on what actually just happened not ten minutes ago. Because quite frankly she did not have a bloody clue. Of course she knew  _what_ happened she just didn't know exactly  _how_ or  _why_.

Okay, so that in a whole was not the truth.

She knew exactly what happened. But she still wasn't sure as to the why.

Granted it had felt nice and reassuring that Mycroft did what he did back in the café, but now her mind was swirling with thoughts.

Why would he do that? Of course he must have sensed her unnerved and rigid movements when she first saw Leon and Natalie. But that still didn't clear up why he did it. He hardly knew her and she could safely say that Mycroft Holmes was still a mystery to her.

She knew that she was making too much out of everything, but she still couldn't help but wonder if she should apologise for, somewhat 'leading him on', which was not what she had intended to do. Not in the slightest. After all, like she previously thought, she hardly knew the man. And the fact that the person in mention just so happened to be related to her brother's eccentric and intrepid flatmate, she wasn't exactly how far the genes had spread.

Not that there was anything wrong with Sherlock, it was just that, oh who was she kidding? There were one hundred and one things wrong with Sherlock bleeding Holmes.

Pushing all thoughts aside, Kate arrived at the crime scene and pulling into the cordoned off car park she took note of the number of officers waiting outside that building, which consisted of eight floors of single flats. She guessed that whoever the victim was, he was either rich or had friends in high places. The buildings were fairly new, all pristine and made from white-painted bricks. There were six officers gathered in the car park, all dressed in their yellow jackets and hats, apart from one who had clocked her arrival and was now striding towards her.

"I'm sorry, you can't come any closer. This is a closed crime scene." The man said. He looked no older than thirty and he was suited and booted in a suit and tie. If truth be told, he looked like a student on work experience.

"Detective Inspector Dimmock I gather." Kate said with a forced smile. She had heard quite a few things about the new DI; not all of them good. "I see that rumours are true to their word."

"Rumours? What rumours?" He asked, bewildered. Kate simply waved it off with her hand. "Sorry, who are you exactly? Do you live in this residence?"

Now this was a surprise. Countless times she recalled that she and Dimmock had crossed paths, fair enough it was only in the corridor or briefly in the meeting room, but it was as if she was a stranger and not his superior. "I would be so lucky. Although I do need to get up there." She pulled her badge from her pocket and flipped it open. She held it up to Dimmock's wandering eyes. "Detective Superintendent Kate Watson. Lestrade asked me to be another pair of eyes.

Dimmock snapped his head up like a soldier standing to attention; and tried to hide his embarrassment. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry ma'am."

"Okay. Tell me what you know." They started walking in the direction of the victim's flat and once through the main doors, it was up eight flights of stairs and down a corridor. Dimmock gave her the basics of the case.

"Edward Van Coon. Suicide, shot himself in the head."

"You sound sure." Kate said turning the corner and through the door to Mr Van Coon's flat.

"We are. He was a trader at Shad Sanderson, a bank in the city. We're guessing he lost a load of money and was worried that the company would go under or his job would be on the line and decided to end it."

He sounded just that bit too cocky for Kate's liking, personally, but still, everyone had to have their theories. She simply liked to make any assumptions herself and after seeing the body. "Which room is the victim in?" She asked and Dimmock pointed to an opened wooden door.

Before she had even taken three steps into the room she got something which she wasn't exactly expecting. Sherlock and John were standing in the master bedroom, both around the body only Sherlock was looming over the body whilst putting something into an evidence bag. "Why am I not surprised?" She strode up to them and stood next to her brother. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in, obviously the victim didn't."

"Balcony." John said as if it was the most normal thing to say. "Well Sherlock persuaded the woman in the flat above to let him use her balcony so he could abseil down to this one and let me in the front door. So technically, I was let in."

"Oh well that's alright then isn't it?" She couldn't believe this. She actually couldn't believe what she had just heard. It was ridiculous, genius but ridiculous and not to mention probably very, very illegal. "This is breaking and entering and not to mention trespassing. Do you know how much trouble you could get into for being here? Do you even realise how suspicious this looks? A woman lets a complete strangle climb down her balcony to the floor below where suddenly a dead body has turned up." She was hissing now, as not to let anyone else hear, she didn't know if the police knew of John and Sherlock's little escapades.

Sherlock straightened until he was standing and zipped the bag tightly shut. "Relax Watson. We're not going to steal your spotlight." He grumbled without looking at her. On her left, John folded his arms and passed glances from his sister to his flat mate.

"Watson? I have a name, you know." She huffed and as strange as he was, Sherlock completely took her back when he ever so slightly leaned closer and sniffed deeply; he then grimaced and gave a short grunt. "What?"

Another sniff and another grunt.

"Here's a sentence I didn't expect to be saying, at all, but Sherlock can you please stop sniffing my sister. Not only is it creepy, but it's making me a little uncomfortable." John said and Kate turned to stare at her brother in disbelief.

"Oh, you're uncomfortable?" She had planned to get an answer out of Sherlock but before she could even begin to question, Dimmock strode into the room confident as ever. "Heads up." She muttered and shoved her hands back into her pockets.

Sherlock, who had now decided was the time to start giving worded answers spoke before Dimmock had the chance to. "Ah Sergeant. We haven't met." He raised his hand in order to politely shake, but Dimmock pulled his back and placed them on his waist, resting on his belt.

"Yeah I know who you are, and I would prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence."

That stopped Sherlock in his tracks. He didn't like being 'told off'. His expression changed completely as he handed Dimmock the plastic zip-lock bag containing what appeared to be a soggy clump of paper, she wasn't too sure what it was, she only got a quick glance.

"I phoned Lestrade." Sherlock asked; he was acting as if the mere presence of the new Detective Inspector insulted him all of a sudden. Is he on his way?"

"It's not Sergeant, its Detective Inspector Dimmock. And yes, I called DI Lestrade and he's busy. I'm in charge."

"Uh, that would be me, actually." Kate corrected him, taking him down a few pegs. She turned to Sherlock and John and smiled. "Looks like I'm in charge boys."

Whilst the forensic officers did their first examination on the victim, the four of them were politely ushered into the main living room where some of the forensic team were still gathering up evidence. Dimmock handed the zip lock bag with the half chewed paper over to a member of the team wearing the blue overalls. "We're obviously looking at a suicide." He stated, as if he was for certain that he had this case all wrapped up.

"Still so sure?" Kate said snidely, her hands still thrust into her pockets. She was absently minded playing with Mycroft's business card with her fingers, she must have forgotten to take it out when he first gave it to her. Although that was almost three weeks ago now.

"It does seem the only explanation of all the facts." John chipped in from the side. Just looking at his stance and posture, Kate knew that Sherlock had his own opinion, which was probably the only opinion that mattered. So she gave him the floor, silently.

"Wrong." He stated. Dimmock sharply turned to look at him. "It's one explanation of some of the facts. You've got a solution that you like, but you are choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."

Now it was Kate's turn to be confused. She didn't fully understand what he was talking about. From what she had heard from the forensic team outside, the only evidence there was to collect was a gun and then the crumpled paper that Sherlock found in the victim's mouth. She began to work her way around the room trying to see if there was anything that the team could have possibly missed but it seemed that they had been pretty thorough. She turned back around and caught John's eye; he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slightly. No, he didn't see anything either. Everything was immaculate.

A sigh came from Dimmock as he ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "Like?"

"Well, the wound is on the right side of his head."

"And?"

"Van Coon was left-handed. Requires quite a bit of contortion." Sherlock explained whilst attempting to twist his left hand over to the right side of his head as an example.

"Let-handed?" Dimmock asked.

"I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat." He began to fire of point-blank around the room. "Coffee table of the left-hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left of the phone, because he picked it up with his right and took messages with his left. Would you like me to continue?"

"Yeah, no it's fine I think we get it. Van Coon was left-handed." Kate folded her arms across her chest. Now that Sherlock had pointed all these out, and looking around the room, it was practically screaming at her that this was a murder and not a suicide.

"I think you got it covered, mate." John confirmed.

"Oh, I might as well, I'm almost at the bottom of the list." Sherlock brushed them off with a swat of his hand and pressed on relentlessly. "There's a knife on the bread board in the kitchen with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left. It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head." Sherlock's stare was holding on Dimmock, who was now looking one hundred percent peed off. "Conclusion, someone broke in here and murdered him – only explanation of  _all_ of the facts."

"But the gun?" Dimmock asked, almost whining. "Why would he have left the gun on his bed, right next to him, if he hadn't used it himself?"

Kate lifted her head and stood straight. She had a hunch, just a small hunch. She had been piecing all this together whilst Sherlock was rambling, sorry, deducing. "What if he was waiting for his killer?" All eyes were now on hers, but most prominent were Sherlock's. She wanted to impress him, she had to if she was ever going to become his  _friend_. Did Sherlock even have friends? She didn't know, but anyway… "When I first went into the bedroom, I overheard the two of you talking about a message left at the bank, a sort of warning. So what if he was being threatened and he knew that the killer had found him so when he came home he took out the gun and waited for the killer to come to him?"

"What so he just sat there in the dark and waited to be killed? Why not call the police?" Dimmock protested as he stared down at her coldly; she did notice however that Sherlock was actually smiling. Had she finally done it? Had she finally broken through that wall of isolation he had built up between them? "It's been confirmed that a shot was fired from his gun." The DI pressed.

"Maybe you should listen to Detective Superintendent Watson, she isn't just a pretty face you know." Sherlock said and threw a wink in her direction. Oh yeah. The wall had come crumbling down. John otherwise wasn't thrilled.

"What was that? Did you just wink at my sister?" Kate smiled. John had always been so over protective of her so she understood his overreaction to a bit of harmless friendly banter.

"Relax John. What I was saying was that, and putting all looks aside, which quite frankly is a shame because your sister is an attractive and smart woman and I won't deny that or dwell on that, putting all that aside, Kate is right. Our victim knew he was about to die. He was being threatened."

"What?" Dimmock asked in disbelief.

"Today at the bank, a sort of warning." John summed up briefly.

"Yes. He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock said whilst pulling on his coat and scarf.

"And the bullet?" Dimmock asked.

Sherlock continued to evade eye contact with the DI. "It went through the open window."

"Oh, come on!" Dimmock exclaimed dramatically as if it was the most ludicrous thing he had ever heard. "What are the chances of that?"

"Quite possible if you think about it." Kate pitched in from the side lines. "If he fired his gun, then why did we only find one bullet? That being the one buried four inches into Van Coon's skull." Both John and Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at her remark. It seemed that everyone was now well and truly hacked off with Detective Inspector Dimmock. "It's true. I'm not just a pretty face."

"Wait until you get the ballistics report." Sherlock said, straightening each individual finger of his leather gloves before sliding them onto his hands. "The bullet in his brain wasn't fired for his gun, I guarantee it."

"And could you tell ballistics that I want the report on my desk first thing tomorrow morning?" said Kate.

"Yes ma'am." Dimmock smiled through gritted teeth. "Quick question though ma'am. If his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?"

Sherlock cut her off before she could reply, knowing she would no doubted drop him in it for climbing in through the balcony. "Good, you're finally starting to ask the  _right_  questions."

And with that the three of them left a rather flustered, annoyed and humiliated Detective Inspector Dimmock standing hopelessly in the centre of the living room.

* * *

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently planning some other stories, and I would really like to know which, if any, you would be interested in reading. So I'll tell you the options and then if you could all let me know which one you would prefer by either reviewing your choice or sending me a message.
> 
> A Victorian Sherlock story – This will be an established Sherlock/Molly and John/Mary. The main story line will of course be a Mycroft/OC.
> 
> A Parentlock and Johnlock story – This story will span from some Teenlock and right through the episodes. Sherlock and John met as teens at Cambridge University in year is now 2010 and Sherlock and John live at Baker Street with their surrogate daughter and adopted son. They soon find that balancing their family and their careers, a difficult and dangerous task.
> 
> I was even thinking about trying my hand at a femlock story. Maybe a female Sherlock or a female John. Let me know which you prefer!
> 
> A Hobbit story – This will be a slight AU. The AU being that Bilbo is married when he sets out on the quest; to which Mrs Baggins isn't too happy with. After following the company and some unplanned twists in this tale, the quest to reclaim Erebor now seems even more treacherous.
> 
> A Guardians of the Galaxy story – I have seen this movie about seven times and I absolutely love it, and every time I watched it, I kept getting ideas for a story that I just had to write down. So it will be a Peter/OC story. Slight AU. Megan Talbot was abducted from her farm house in Kansas and trained under the eyes of Yandou. After a mission that turned sour, Megan must team up with outlaw Peter Quill and his band of misfit's to protect the galaxy.
> 
> Feel free to recommend any other stories or one shots you would like me to do and I will try my best to do so.
> 
> -Watson'sGirl-


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.
> 
> Any transcript used is courtesy of Ariane DeVere.
> 
> Enjoy :)

* * *

 

Ice Man No More

"Where are we going exactly?"

They were halfway down the main streets of London before Sherlock finally told them where they were going. He had managed to get a sneak peak at Sebastian Wilkes' schedule for that day and saw that he was scheduled in for a business lunch at a rather pricey and fancy restaurant in the middle of the town.

"Sebastian Wilkes?" Kate asked.

"He's the head of the division that Edward Van Coon was employed in. He was the one to contact us."

"Oh, right." Kate nodded and they continued walking. "Thank you, Sherlock. By the way." She said and looked up, watching him as he lead the way, parading through the busy streets. She noticed that John had now dropped back to let her catch up with him until she was standing side by side with Sherlock.

"What for?"

"For sticking up for me, I guess." Sherlock glanced down at her, a little perplexed about what she was talking about. "Well Dimmock was hardly going to listen to me was he, even if I am his superior?"

Blinking rapidly a few times, Sherlock faced back the way he was walking. "You're welcome."

"So I guess this means we're friends now?"

"Yes. I suppose. Whatever indulges your fantasies."

"Best friends?"

"Don't push it."

"Best friends for life?"

"Stop it. Please."

"Sherlock" He stopped and turned to her, he looked worn out. Kate smiled and batted her eye lashes. "Tell me I'm pretty." She sang in a sickly sweet voice. The noise Sherlock made was halfway between a groan and a growl as he turned his back and continued down the street. Kate hung back to wait for John who was apparently fighting a losing battle as he tried to contain his laughter as his sister tormented his flat mate; linking arms they hurried after Sherlock who was still storming up the street, his coat tails flapping behind him.

* * *

 

Kate's assumption had been correct. The restaurant was very fancy, very fancy indeed. Sherlock wasted no time and walked straight past the young man waiting a podium at the front of the restaurant to greet them. He already had his sight set on the target.

The man who Kate could only assume was Sebastian Wilkes was sitting at a large table, seated for eight or more people, but there only seemed to be four people present. As they approached, Kate closed in on Mr. Wilkes' conversation "…and he's left trying to sort of cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done!" He laughed obnoxiously and his lunch dates joined in with him.

Sherlock strode and stopped by the table, planting his feet to the ground and standing over Sebastian. "It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant."

Sebastian looked up from his food, slightly beguiled, but once he saw the three of them standing in front of him his face changed entirely; he looked annoyed. That was until he saw Kate, and then he changed again. And now he was smiling. "Hi." He flashed her a toothy smile. "And who might you be?"

Kate just managed to stretch a faux smile from her lip. "Kate."

"Well,  _Kate_." He stood from his chair, flicking his blazer back as he did and approached her with his hand out stretched. "No last name?"

Kate politely shook his hand, as slick as he was. "Kate Watson. Detective Superintendent Kate Watson."

Sebastian appeared to be taken back. What? Had he not expected Kate to have a career that was more or less the same stature as his? Or did he simply expect her to be another object for him to pawn over and conquer?

Rather unexpectedly John whistled sharply through his teeth, attracting the attention of a few customers, including his meeting clients. "Eyes up here sunshine." Kate glanced down at Sebastian and saw him quickly flick her eyes away from their fixated stare of her breasts. She blushed, mainly because she didn't really appreciate being rake over like a slab of meat on a butcher's table and the fact that both John and Sherlock had noticed this. She gripped the lapels of her jacket and pulled on them until they covered her up.

"Sherlock," Sebastian cleared his throat in attempt to cover up his blunder. "I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"

"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian." Sebastian sighed and glanced at his clients, apologetic. "One of your traders – someone who worked in your office – was killed."

Sebastian blinked rapidly for a count of five before stammering a response. "What? Who?"

"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." John said.

"Actually, I'm the leading officer on this investigation." Kate chipped in, noticing how Sebastian seemed to perk up at this, even for a split second.

"He was killed?" Sebastian mumbled, shocked. "How?"

"I don't think that this is the time or the place to discuss this." Stated Kate.

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still want to make an appointment?" You could practically see the sarcasm dripping from Sherlock's tongue as he spoke. "Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?"

* * *

 

If she recalled correctly, she was the leading officer of this homicide investigation, not Sherlock and John. So why in seven hells was she demoted to standing outside of the gents toilets, while Sherlock and her brother were in there with Sebastian, who at this current moment in time, was her only possible suspect?

The sudden vibration and chime of her phone in her pocket pulled her from her mental rant. Se unlocked her phone and was pleasantly surprised to see that she had a text from Mycroft.

**_I trust my brother is being kept in check? He always did like the weird cases. - MH_ **

**_You heard about that already? It only happened a few hours ago. It hasn't been on the news yet. - KW_ **

**_Unlike the common person I don't get my news from the tabloids. - MH_ **

**_So I'm a commoner?_**   **– KW**

**_No offence intended. – MH_ **

**_When you say 'no offence intended', do you actually know what that means? – KW_ **

There was a short delay in messages and Kate was beginning to feel that her last reply had not been received as she had hoped it would. She had meant for it to be sarcastic and a little joke, but now reading back, it did just seem like she was genuinely offended.

**_Sorry, that didn't mean to sound as bad as it did. And yes, I am keeping Sherlock in check. I don't think he appreciates it, not in the slightest. – KW_ **

**_How so? – MH_ **

**_He keeps sniffing me and then acting as if I smell rancid to him. – KW_ **

**_Ignore him. Sherlock is guaranteed to become almost as strange as the cases he handles. If Sherlock becoming stranger is even a possibility. – MH_ **

**_That being said, he is currently hiding in the gents with my brother and another man. Is that the kind of strange you are referring to? – KW_ **

It was then, just as Kate sent that last message that the door to the gents swung open and Sherlock stepped out. He stopped when he saw her, and she did notice how his eyes flickered down to her phone screen. She attempted to lock it before he had a chance to read anything that had been said but he must have seen. "For god's sake." He grumbled as he, yet again, stormed off and she and John were left to follow.

* * *

 

They made it back to Baker Street in less than an hour; Kate was no more than two feet inside of the flat when she heart Sherlock the sniffer dog behind her again. "Can I help you?" He grunted a reply. Much like he had done earlier. "What is with you? Have I don't something to annoy you, because if I have then I'm sorry?"

Sherlock was silent, he didn't look at her, he simply stared at the wall ahead of him and she could see him chewing the inside of his lip, rather aggressively too. Kate sighed when she realised what this was all about. "This is because I didn't reply to your text this morning, isn't it?" Again, not a peep from Sherlock. "Or because you saw my texts in the restaurant? Oh grow up Sherlock."

Without a second glance or a single word, Sherlock stomped up the stairs, taking two and the final three at once, "What is your problem?" Kate asked just as he reached the top of the stairs.

"You reek of him." He almost snarled before slamming the door hard enough that the brass knocker on the door behind Kate, rattled in protest.

The entire flat was silent, bar from the faint scuffling and thumping coming from upstairs, probably Sherlock throwing a tantrum. Kate looked to John, she felt like she had hardly spoken to him today, but now she couldn't think of anything worth saying. It was John who broke the silence.

"So," He cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at her – which was probably a tad strange for him, usually he was looking up at people. “Do you want to explain to me what the hell is wrong with you two?”

“Wrong with me? How did you figure that one out John?” She could feel her voice raising and so she stopped and kept herself grounded. “I have done nothing to him. I don’t know if he thinks that I’m hanging around you guys too much, well I’m sorry, but I am just trying to do my job and it has been proved, especially today, that the task is very difficult when you have someone sniffing you every five minutes and throwing a child’s tantrum every time he does.”

“Alright. Alright.” John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, it’s like mothering two children. Look, I’m not all too sure what is going on with Sherlock, to be honest I don’t think anyone does. What did he mean? When he said, ‘you reek of him’?”

“Honestly, all of this has been blown completely out of proportion. This all started when he texted me this morning when I was having coffee with Mycroft, and I ignored on of his messages and ever since then he’s been such a…”

“Whoa, back up.” John interjected, with his hands held up. “You had coffee…with Mycroft Holmes?”

Kate heaved a sigh. “Oh, not you too John. I honestly don’t see why it is such a big deal.”

“It’s not, in truth. It’s just that…well Mycroft doesn’t normally talk to people unless he wants something. So, what did he want?”

“Nothing.”

John looked at her for a moment. “Nothing?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What, at all?”

“No, nothing at all.” Kate ran a hand through her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. “As much as I love you John, if we’re finished here, I really need to go through the case notes.”

She turned to leave but John reached out and gently grabbed her arm. “No, wait.” She stopped and slowly turned back to face her elder brother. He did look genuinely sorry and a little concerned. “Look, I’m sorry Kate. I won’t mention it again. You’re right, it doesn’t matter, not one bit.” He smiled weakly at her and she returned with an even weaker one. “Actually, if you’re not too busy, there was something I was wondering you could help me with.”

“What’s wrong?” She sounded a little worried, but John reassured her that it was noting to concern herself about, he just needed a little support. “Since leaving the army, I haven’t been able to find any work, none at all. And now I’m receiving final demands in the mail for bills that have went months without being paid. And I thought that Sherlock would be getting paid somehow for his _services_ but no, he doesn’t charge people. He does it all for free.

Kate shook her head and laughed. “For being such a smart arse, I thought that he would have thought that through a bit more.” John chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Okay, how much?" Kate asked.

John blinked, looking confused. "What?

"How much do you owe?"

"Owe?" John seemed confused for a moment, before clicking onto what she was hinting at. "Well nothing once I get that cheque from Sebastian cashed."

"Sebastian? That sleaze from the restaurant? Why did he give you a cheque?" John reached into his inside pocket of his over coat and fished around until he pulled out said cheque.

"Because Sebastian Wilkes is a very successful and rich man who contacted Sherlock about the break-in at the banks trading offices. And he seemed very willing to pay for answers." He handed it to Kate and upon opening it, he thought that her eyes were actually going to fall from their sockets as they fell upon the number written there.

"Holy fuck." Kate cussed loudly and John looked at her disapprovingly. "Sorry, but that is quite a few zero's."

"Like I said. Rich." John grabbed the cheque with his thumb and fore finger and tugged it from Kate's hands in one tug. She tutted and folded her arms and rested against the door frame to her flat's door.

"I still don't understand how Sherlock can be friends with someone like that. It looked like Sherlock loathed him."

"Oh he does, but apparently they went to university together, and much to no-one's surprise, Sherlock wasn't exactly the most popular boy on campus."

"Oh. That bad, huh?"

"Yeah, and we're talking about the cleaners were more liked than he was. Well that is according to Mr Wilkes." Kate bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at John's comment. She couldn't even begin to imagine what teenage Sherlock could have possibly been like. It wasn't something she wanted to think about in all honesty, but she could imagine him being as obnoxious as ever, just a little shorter and hopefully spottier.

"Yeah. I'm not complaining, I mean it should cover the bills for the next few months. Gives me one less thing to worry about."

"Lucky for some." She muttered, trying not to be jealous of how John and Sherlock just seemed to have things handed to them on a silver lace trimmed platter. "So what is it that you need help with?"

"I was thinking about going into town and doing a little job hunting. And I know that we haven't had a proper chance to catch up properly, so I was wondering if you'd come with me for a little extra support."

"Of course I'll come with you. We could grab some lunch while we're out too."

"Yeah, sounds good. I've got a CV ready but would you read it and make sure it actually makes sense, you know how I hate to big myself up in these things."

Inviting him in, Kate made John and herself a fresh pot of tea and the two of them sat down and dissected his reference. It was good, really good – for the most of it and on a piece of paper Kate scribbled down a list of good selling points and just plain unnecessary ones.

Good points – Arm trained, meaning that he could take charge and has good leadership skills. Punctional. Reliable. There were many more like this and it was a good thing that the unnecessary list was much, _much_ shorter than the good points. In fact, there was only one bad point that he needed to get rid of immediately.

_‘Played the clarinet in school._ ’


End file.
